Greater Expectations
by Verboten Byacolate
Summary: GakuHeta AU, in which alcohol leads to potentially hasty decisions, and Berwald keeps to his erotic fantasies. Written with whitetyger123.
1. The First to Fall

Written with whitetyger123. It's roleplay format, because I didn't want to mess with it too much, and... primarily because I had no idea I'd be putting it up. I hope it's as much fun for you to read as it's been for me to write.

* * *

He had known it was a terrible idea to take this particular physical education course. He had known from the start, because that scary dark-skinned Turkish coach was the one who taught it, who made the routines and whipped them into shape (almost literally; Tino felt pretty slavish at the moment). But nooo, he just _had_ to improve his self-image, just needed sooo desperately to prove to himself that he could survive the course expectations.

What a load of-

"SLOPPY WORK ETHIC," an only-too-cheerful-to-be-egging-on-children voice rang. "Don't tell me you're giving in on the third stone up, Väinämöinen."

He whimpered, not even daring to look over his shoulder. Surely he was higher than that; he felt like he could fall to his death at any minute. Tino's hands were slippery enough to drown the ocean in sweat, he was sure, and the bell at the top was just way too high.

"Get a move on!" barked Coach Adnan, "I've got at least another dozen brats that need to climb this wall, and we don't have all day."

Tino quickly wiped his sweat-slick hand on his t-shirt and reached up with a shaky arm for the next stone, grasping it for dear life.

"I don't want to do this anymore," he whimpered to himself, starting to feel dizzy. Put him in a firearms class any day and he'd go crazy with power and authority, but put him on a rock wall and ask him to climb, and he turned to metaphorical goo.

Damn his height. Berwald had been in Fine Arts when his PE teacher had asked him to help out. When he got to the gym, it seemed that all he was needed to do was put away equipment on the top shelf. If they couldn't reach it, why did they have to make them so high?

When he was done with that, the tall blond left the room, and came face to face with the most delightful sight. A round bottom, quivering at just below his eye level. Eyes widened fractionally behind his spectacles, and he stood to watch for a second. When he tore his eyes away from the two globes, he saw a shaking hand reach up before going back to the rock it had been on previously. But it was the small squeak he heard that propelled him into stepping forward, and plucking the boy from the wall.

Tino's initial reaction was, 'Oh dear Lord, I'm falling. I knew it! I knew this would happen!'

His second was motion sickness and coming to terms with his death.

His third was relief because death had really strong arms and was pretty gentle in lowering him to the ground.

And the last was complete and utter terror, because death had the scariest face he had ever seen.

"Ohyaa!" he cried, and when his fellow schoolmate seemed taken aback by the outburst, the Finn came to his senses and began to laugh nervously, his legs a little wobbly. "A-ah, thank you! I th-thought I was going to die up there, haha!"

Squinting down at him, Berwald tried to make out the blurry figure. His glasses had fallen off when the shorter boy's ass, (soft, soft ass) had brushed against his face. But, he still inclined his head in a nod, and tried to search the ground for his glasses. This was very inconvenient, how was he supposed to ogle his damsel in distress when he couldn't see?

Maybe a little abruptly, he pushed the 'damsel' out of the way so he could retrieve his glasses. Ah yes, this was much better. He was never very good at reading faces, so it didn't really register that the look on his face was slight terror. Berwald lifted a hand, and pat him on the head, feeling his soft hair. "Name?"

Tino blinked. "E-eh? My name? Ahaha, what's my name..." He tittered nervously, the syllables making their way out of his mouth on their own. "Tino. Tino Väinämöinen. It's a mouthful, I know, but you get used to it after a while, really..."

Wow. He was... he was pretty tall, this guy. Tall with a super scary expression, but his features... well, they weren't exactly hard on the eyes. A chiseled jaw, long, thick neck, broad shoulders... oh wow, those abs weren't bad, either...

Tino could have hit himself. Checking out a dude's abs? Really? He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts. "W-well, thanks again, um...?"

After another pat to Tino's head, Berwald gave a curt nod and left. The glue on his bird house should be dry by now, after all.

Laughing, Mathias hit his friend on the back. "Man, you look like you just saw a ghost! And that ghost tried to eat you!" The Dane had thought it would be fun watching Tino trying to climb the rock wall, but it was even better to watch him in front of The Beast! He turned to his boyfriend, who seemed to be... well, it looked like he was watching the soccer game outside. "Hey Christian! Christian! Did you just see that Christian? Christian, wasn't that funny? It was like totally funny, wasn't it Christian?" If he said his name a few more times, maybe he could get him to turn around.

Tino cringed. "It couldn't have been all that funny," he mumbled, and Christian waved a hand without turning around.

"It was hilarious," he deadpanned to get the Dane off his back about it. "My sides are splitting from all the laughter I must hide."

Tino watched the tall boy go and turned to the cackling blond. "Um... who is that? I've seen him around, I think. He looks kind of familiar."

"He's in my Biology class. His name is like... Ber... Bert. Yeah, something like Bert." Mathias said, annoyed that he still didn't have Christian's undivided attention!

Shaking his head as he got down from the rock wall, Eduard retrieved his glasses from his pocket. "His name is Berwald, actually. You should know that, Mathias, you sit right next to him." Not to mention that his Norwegian boyfriend wasn't in that class, so it wasn't like he had anything taking his mind off things.

But the tallest of the group was currently uninterested, because he was going for Christians hat. If he didn't want to pay attention to him, then he would just _have_ to.

"Berwald... Berwald... where have I heard that name before...?" Tino pondered it for a bit, watching blithely as Christian sucker punched Mathias for even making a move toward his hat.

In fact, he pondered it for the rest of the school day, until the bell rang and all thoughts that weren't of the party Mathias was taking them to flew from his mind.

Tino, as a general rule, wasn't really a party person. He was very much content to just stay at home, curled up in a quiet room with a book or some homework. He didn't get the same high as other kids his age did with all the mingling and dancing.

But Mathias had promised vodka- the good stuff, none of the cheapo stuff, and who was he to deny himself a drink or twelve? So he gathered up his things and headed home to prepare for a night of lonely boozing at some guy's house.

Christian was stalking forward, fully knowing that he was backing Mathias into a corner. "Why would you tell me to be here _a whole hour_ before everyone else shows up?"

Smiling nervously, Mathias waved his hands, jolting when his back touched the wall. "W-well you see, I just thought it would be nice, y-you know, both of us, alone..." He didn't finish, for fear of his life. But then he found the handle of a door, so he quickly ran inside and closed it behind him. "We are dating, you know!" He yelled through the door, confidence back. It was quickly followed by a fist hitting the other side.

"Right," Christian hissed through the door, "we're dating. Which makes it perfectly all right to withhold intimate relations with you."

He stepped back from the door, intent on perfecting the refreshment table, huffing quietly to himself. "You must be an idiot to have all this alcohol out," he said, knowing the Dane could hear him. "You know you're going to get busted by the police again. And if you let Tino near it, there is no hope for any of us."

The Dane opened the door and pouted, making sure that if need be he could close it again. "But you like the sex! Like when I pull on your curl, or when I rub your-!" He closed the door quickly again as a glass was hurled at his face. The doorbell rang, so he quickly ran up the stairs. Well, at least Christian wouldn't try to murder him if there was someone else there. Hopefully.

"Tino! Glad you could make it!" He hugged the little blond, making sure to let go as soon as his face started to turn purple.

"O-oohyaa, of c-course, Mathias..." he coughed, smiling a little warily. The Finn could not help but notice that the house was otherwise very empty and quiet. It made him wonder, a little self-consciously, if he was way too early.

It helped to ease the weirdness at the thought if he reminded himself that _someone_ had to arrive first.

"You look a little pale... is Christian out for your life again?"

Laughing a little too obnoxiously to be believed, Mathias led him downstairs. "What are you talking about? We are just as happy as a couple can be, you know. Um here, let me hold the door for you and you can go in first." That is what a gentleman should do, right? "Oh watch out for glass."

"Glass- AAH!" He swerved just in time, guarding his face with his arms as something shattered against the wall beside him.

"Oh. Hello, Tino."

The shortest of the three paled, frowning deeply. "Don't throw things like that! It could really hurt someone!"

Expressionless violet eyes flickered toward Mathias for a moment. "That's nothing short of the point."

"O-oh..."

"Hey look, alcohol!" Mathias said, hopefully diverting attention. Once Christian had a drink in him or two, he would forget about his lust for blood, and be easier to lead to an uninhabited room. Of course, that always ran the risk of there not being anything left for everyone else once Tino started drinking, but if it got him laid he really didn't give a crap.

Pouring a drink for himself, he was interrupted as there was a knock at the door again. "I'll be right back!" But before Mathias got to the door, he stopped, and grabbed a few of the bottles of vodka so Tino wouldn't down them all.

Tino watched them go with a very distinct "aww" face before turning to the rest, eyeing them hungrily.

"Moderation, Tino," Christian advised, pouring a small amount, regarding it for a moment, and then holding it back slightly from Tino's grasp. "This stuff is terrible for your liver and your kidneys and it's probably why you're so fat. As a good friend, I should keep it away from you."

Tino pouted. "As a good friend, how could you call me fat?" He reached for the bottle, leaning against the table. "Besides, once you start mingling, I'll be all alone. I won't feel lonely with this... erm... why are you staring at me like that?"

The Norwegian cocked a cool eyebrow at him.

"Did you just suggest that I mingle?"

Tino opened and closed his mouth for a short moment before tipping the bottle up, obscuring his view of his friend and letting the harsh liquid flow down his palate.

Through the next ten minutes, many more were added to the party. Mathias made sure that they all knew to keep it downstairs, and that the rooms were off limits. He wouldn't want to walk in on someone else doing the dirty when he dragged Christian there! After all, one of the reasons he had planned this party was because he hadn't mixed his mayonnaise with Christian's fudge maker in nearly a month!

At the beverage table, Eduard yelped as his hand was almost bitten off when he tried to take a sip of Tino's drink. "Well, don't come whining to me when you get alcohol poisoning and they have to pump your stomach." He humphed.

Tino giggled, hiccupping once and leaning heavily against Eduard. "Pleeease, I'm Finnish. I was born with an iron..." He took another swig, searching his mind for the words. "...an iron... what were we talking about again? Ooh, kittens!" He swayed over to the fluffy little scamps he saw across the room, reaching out and petting at them. Thanks to alcohol and terrible depth perception brought on in consequence of his imbibing, he missed, and nearly toppled over.

Something... er, someone caught him around the waist, luckily enough. "Bad kittens," he scolded, "running away from me like that."

Cold laughter shattered his happy drunkenness in a near instant. "Aha, you like my sweater, da? Katyusha knitted it for me. I like the kittens too."

"That's great, Ivan," a feminine voice said near his ear, and Tino looked up.

Elizaveta's chin was right near his ear. "So that's why my back is all soft and squishy." He nodded sagely, looping his arms around his friend. "Elizaaa, where are the Schnapps?"

She shook her head and pulled him away from the Russian and his drunk-magnet kitten sweater and propped him against a wall, patting his cheeks. "As hard as it is to deny that cute face, I think you've had enough to drink tonight."

Tino pouted. "Boooo, but the party's just begun!"

"You're right," she said cheerfully. "It's only been an hour and you've already made your way through half of the booze."

"Yooou," he crooned, tapping her chin (missing the mark on occasion) with his index finger, "should have some, too. Maybe it'd," he hiccupped, "loosen you up a bit."

She snorted, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him upright as he kissed her cheek. "Oh no, I know better. Someone has to make sure Roderich doesn't get anywhere near that white devil. Gilbert is hell on earth by nature, but he's the ultimate terror with alcohol. And I don't want to deal with him if I'm not drinking."

"There is a very obvious solution to the problem," Tino said, the serious expression on his face offset by the glazed look in his eye and his tipsy sway. "Drink!"

They were interrupted as Arthur came crashing down between them, being possibly the only other person that could, and would, out-drink Tino. "God save the Queen! Now shiver me timbers or ye shall walk the plank!" He thrust his hand in the air as if he had a sword, which he obviously didn't.

Elizaveta laughed, pushing Arthur off of them. "Aye aye, Captain." She saluted him, and laughed even more when he tried saluting her back.

"Yer a good First Mate, even with yer long hair." Then he caught sight of the drink table. "Land hoe!"

"I'll shiver your timbers," Tino slurred, attaching himself to Arthur's shoulders. He giggled. "You smell like scotch," he said, poking the Brit's cheek. "Where'd you geeet it, hmm~?"

He blew in Arthur's ear, and the drunken "pirate" began to flail.

"Ouch, geez, knock it off!" Elizaveta laughed, snatching one of Arthur's arms mid-flop in an iron grip before it could hit her in the face again. "Knock. It. Off."

"Cor blimey, she's a fright, ain't she?" Arthur said, turning to, "Lord!" ...Tino, who he realized was very, very close.

The pale boy kissed him on the cheek twice before escaping from Elizaveta like a slippery fish, cuddling the arm of the next person he saw.

"Oh, hi Tino! Ve you're hurting my arm..." Feliciano said, trying to get his limb from the drunkard's grasp before it was bruised. "Tino, let go! Ludwig!" He started crying, getting the attention of the German, who sighed.

Did he really need saving _again_? It's not like Tino was very strong! "Let go." He said with a firm voice, which usually worked pretty well. But this only made the small Finn start trying to kiss Feli. "Alright, that's it." Ludwig picked him up by the back of his shirt and pushed him towards Francis. If he wanted to kiss people, it might as well be someone who would kiss back.

Luckily, Tino had friends who cared for his well-being.

A split second before he had run headlong into Francis' lusty arms, a flash of utterly heroic man intercepted. "Whoa there, dude," Alfred chuckled, draping a thick arm over Tino's shoulders. "I know you can't possibly be drunk enough to go there."

Francis cursed at him behind his back, only fueling Alfred's boisterous laughter. Tino was all over that in two seconds flat, clinging to the American as if he were a lifeline (and, truth be told, at that alcohol level, he probably was). "I'd love to stay here and enjoy this moment," Alfred chirped, "but I've got people to irritate, and I don't want you in the middle if it comes to blows. Now let's see if there's anyone trustworthy... Aha!"

Tino found himself being dumped unceremoniously onto a spluttering, foul-mouthed Italian.

"Chigi, you stupid jock!" Romano yelled, shaking his fist and offering a few choice words as Alfred sauntered off. Tino coiled himself around the other lithe body, nuzzling Lovino's neck. "Ehehe, you smell nice~"

Trying to keep his dignity, the Italian tried pushing him away. "Well... I do not smell nice! Yeah take tha-!" But he was silenced as a pair of alcoholic tasting lips were pressed to his. He couldn't be kissing someone! He had a boyfr... actually, why the hell couldn't he kiss someone? It's not like he was actually _dating_ that fucktard.

Antonio watched and clapped his hands together. "They are so cuuuute!" But quickly it became too much. His Lovi shouldn't be blushing like that for anyone but him! So the brunet pulled them apart. "He's mine!" The Spaniard tried to kiss Romano, but was pushed away.

"I am not _yours_! I can kiss whoever the fuck I want!"

"Boys, boys," he said, pausing for suspense. And maybe a small hiccup. "Let's not fight. No, my friends. Let's drink. Drink and love." With that he planted two sloppy kisses on each of their faces and released them, seeking out a wall. He had had enough loving for a little bit, and it was getting pretty hot amidst all of the attractive men he'd never realized that he studied with.

He pressed his back against the wall, closing his eyes and fanning himself with a hand.

"It's so hooot in here."

"Maybe you should take a walk outside."

Tino opened his eyes and smiled goofily. "Freeeyr~" he cooed, pulling the Icelander close, pressing tiny kisses to his ear.

Trying to hit away the kisses, the Icelandic boy blushed. "Why do you always get like this when you're drunk?" Oh well, better than Alfred's brother... whatever his name was, who would lose more and more clothes the drunker he was.

Speak of the devil, the almost invisible man walked by them. "But Al! Why bother putting my shirt on when no one sees me anyway?"

"Matt, put your shirt back on. Don't you dare take off your pants too. Hey I said don't take them off! Come on, this is so not heroic!" The older twin covered his eyes, _not_ wanting to see his brother's junk when he took his boxers off as well.

Tino giggled, smooching the pale boy's hand as he watched the adorable Canadian strip. When Matthew got the tingling feeling at the back of his neck, which meant that someone was looking at him. (He was so sensitive to it because it was such an oddity.) He jumped when he noticed the Finn's leer. Tino wiggled his fingers, winking.

"Don't mind me. Please continue~"

Matthew's curl bounced happily. Yay attention! He waved back, blowing a heavily imbibed kiss.

Throwing up his hands, the heroic American exclaimed, "I give up! Just go and get raped! Have fun with Francis!" Luckily however, there was a perfectly placed maple leaf obscuring the view of his brother's neither regions.

Arthur was singing a pirate song, when he walked into the naked Canadian. "Oh, sorry lad, didn't see you there. Where are your breeches?" And then he fell, on poor Freyr. "Oh no! The ship was hit! Every sailor for himself!"

Matthew watched Alfred go and, thanks to the depressant liquid coursing through his veins, felt his eyes tear up. The Canadian hugged Arthur to him and cried into his shoulder. "Daddy, why doesn't he pay more attention to meeee?"

Arthur listened to the complaints with an oddly constipated look in his face, and after a few moments of listening to Matthew bawling, he burst into tears himself. "I-I know exactly what you mean!" he sniffled, wailing into Matthew's hair. "He's been hanging around that... that... that trollop Kiku lately, playing video games and... and... and playing video games... and... I ought to make him walk the plank!"

Tino watched the drama unfold, his lips forming a tiny little "o". "Wooow, people in love have so many problems. What about yooou?" He poked Freyr in the nose (after missing a couple of times and nearly jabbing the poor boy's eyes out). "Are you in love with anyone, Frey-Frey~?" He pecked Freyr on the lips and patted him twice on the cheek. "Talk to -hic- big brother about it~"

Crossing his arms, the white haired boy glanced over to where Mathias was trying to drag Christian out the door and to a bedroom. "No. Crushes are stupid. And just because I'm a year younger than you doesn't mean you're my big brother!" They had just been next door neighbors for their whole lives.

There was silence when a slap was heard, and all eyes turned to Mathias and Christian, the later marching away. Freyr gulped. "Uh, maybe now would be a good time for that walk..."

Tino let out a sound and nodded enthusiastically, holding on to the wall for support as he walked along, humming something to himself. Once he had passed (and kissed) at least a dozen other friends, he made his way up the stairs and out into the cold night air.

He took a deep, cleansing breath of the crisp oxygen and let it wash over him as he swayed his way down the sidewalk. It was so nice and quiet at night in the quaint neighborhood, and Tino couldn't believe he'd passed up the opportunity for a stroll for so long that night.

It was only when he started laughing to himself at all the funny thoughts in his head that he finally saw someone coming down the street. He squinted, waving his arms so that they would see him and not run him over, even though they were definitely not in a car and just walking down the sidewalk a couple blocks down.

"Yoo-hoo!" he called. "If you happen... to get in a car, could you please not run over me?" Stumbling a little closer, he could make out a tall figure. "I'm a little bit drunk, y'see, and that would just be _terrible_."

Berwald wondered who the person stumbling their way down the street was, and was surprised to see that it was Tino! Well, he hadn't thought he would be the type to drink so much... Did he not have a place to go? As he got closer, he could also make out the boy next to him, that looked like he was developing a head ache.

"Tino! Stop yelling at random people! I'm very sorry, he isn't like this often." Freyr was saying as they got closer to the familiar looking man. Didn't he go to their school?

Looking down his nose at the current object of his affection, Berwald coughed in his hand. "S'ok."

"Oooh, it's you!" Tino squinted up. Yep, his face was still scary, even in the dark. It should be okay if he didn't see it though, right? Right. In his never-failing logic, Tino spread his fingers over Berwald's face, giggling. "You saved me earlier, how could I think you'd run over me?" he crooned in a babying voice, standing on his tiptoes to kiss the man's chin.

Freyr blinked at him. "I think we ought to totally just leave him on the street tonight."

"Hmm," Tino hummed thoughtfully, squeezing Berwald around the middle. "I _was_ enjoying myself... don't see the harm in it!"

Blushing slightly from the kisses to his face, the Swede tried pulling away with still not letting Tino fall. "I could take 'im." It was obvious that he was much too intoxicated to do anything, so that would probably be the best, for him to get some sleep.

Biting his lip, Freyr looked around the dark street. "Um... I don't know, I mean..." It was then that Tino went into the second faze of his drunkenness; crying. He really didn't want to deal with that. "Yeah sure, you two have fun."

As Freyr retreated back inside the warm house, the Finn's lower lip wobbled. He fell against Berwald, rubbing his face into the thick flannel shirt. "I-it's just..." he hiccupped, looking up at the giant with tear-filled eyes. "J-just that... t-this world is just so..." His voice dropped to a meaningful whisped. "Beautiful. All the baby rabbits are probably in their little holes snuggled up with each other, all nice and warm, like you..."

He sniffled. "And now I'm saying embarrassing things! Waaaah!" he wailed, clinging to Berwald's shoulders. "It's just s-so beautiful outside, Berwaaald!"

Not sure what to do, the large teen just started to lead him to his house, which luckily was fairly close. "Yer beaut'ful." He mumbled down to Tino who was wetting his shirt. This was closer than he ever thought he would get with him, so he was happy.

Before this, any crush he had would simply not pay attention to him. Berwald was fine with that, because most of the time if he spoke to them they would be afraid of him for some reason. But could this actually have a chance? Of course, Tino was still painfully drunk.

Tino squinted through his tears. "W-what?" He'd probably misheard him. He was hammered, after all, and crying pretty loudly. "You think it's beautiful, too?" He sniffled. "All the pretty mountains and the snow and the sunsets and... is that your couch? Can I lay on it? Wow, your house is roomy." He looked so far up at the ceiling that, if Berwald had not been there to catch him, he would have fallen over backwards.

Shaking his head, Berwald led him past the couch. "Bed." He couldn't let a guest sleep on the couch after all! Especially not a guest so cute and so very drunk and defenseless. But, it was only a fantasy, because he would never take advantage of someone. Especially since this was the closest to a relationship he had ever been in, and he knew how pathetic that sounded.

From a few houses down, he could hear loud music. So that was probably where Tino had gotten so drunk. Yes, it was a good thing he brought him here.

"Oooh, bed!" Tino let Berwald guide him down the hall and into a room, smiling what he could only assume was a coy smile. "Sssooo," he said in a slur that was far too drunken to be anywhere near sexy, "I bet you think that you'll get lucky 'cause I'm," a hiccup, "in... intox...intoxic... drunk!" He poked Berwald's chest to make a point and got a little distracted with how firm and delicious his pecs were. "Well... well you're... hmm, I bet your abs are great," he mumbled, lifting the hem of Berwald's shirt.

Surprised, Berwald stumbled backward. Oh no, he had no clue what to do in this situation! He had never dealt with a drunk wanting to feel his stomach. Should he just leave? Maybe get Tino a glass of water? On the other hand, he could just let him continue...

No. That could be considered rape in the court of law. Tino was very intoxicated and in no mind to make such decisions like... touching other peoples abs. Dammit, was he overreacting?

Since Tino's body mass was centered on Berwald, it followed after. "Whoops!" he said as he fell, landing on his knees. "Whoa... everything's spinning..."

Tino looked up and up and up, but Berwald's face was so distant and blurry. His lower lip wobbled and he held his hands up. "I can't see you very well," he said, his eyes pooled with unshed tears.

Now he remembered why he didn't drink very often. It made him an emotional trainwreck.

Pulling him up was made difficult since Tino wasn't helping at all. But, when he was high enough, Berwald pushed him onto the bed. He pointed to the pillow, and tried to make his voice stern as he said, "Sleep." Then he patted him on the head so he would stop crying, before leaving the room and going to get some blankets for himself. It was times like these he wished they had a big couch so he could actually fit in it.

It didn't take long at all for Tino to pass out; about two minutes, actually. But in the middle of the night, after he woke up to vomit violently in the nearest bathroom, he stumbled around the dark, strange house, a blanket draped around him, his mouth tingling like so much Crest mouthwash. He found Berwald asleep cramped on a too-small couch and seated himself on the floor, resting his head on the couch cushion, his face inches from Berwald's.

He didn't feel much like being alone.


	2. He Loves Swedish Meatballs

Dericious breakfasts, cute lunches, and schoolboy crushes to ensue. 8D

* * *

When the large blond woke, he remembered what happened last night. And then almost jumped when he heard light snoring _right by his freaking head_! He looked down, and even without his glasses he knew it was Tino. How did he get down here? Oh well. He got off the couch and stretched, his cramped bones popping into place. Next he carefully lifted the sleeping angel and put him on the couch where he had just been.

With that done, Berwald went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, so when Tino woke up with a huge hang over, he could drink it. Hm, now what should he make for breakfast?

The Finn woke with a groan to the scent of something delicious. A small crack of sunlight peeking through the blinds caught his eye and he winced, whimpering and shielding his face with his hands.

"I'll never drink again," he moaned, slowly rising. Tino threw the blanket over his head and stalked into the kitchen.

Turning over the bacon, Berwald noticed that Tino had come in. "Adv'l." He said, and tossed a bottle to him. It was pretty obvious he had a bad hangover. But that is what someone has to pay when they drink that much. The bacon was finished, so he put it on two plates with eggs.

"O-oh, thank you." He downed two of them dry and looked up at Berwald, dark crescents below his eyes. "Thanks for letting me sleep over. It was very kind of..."

And the pieces of a very twisted puzzle began to piece themselves together in Tino's hung over mind. All alone at Berwald's house, completely intoxicated, with his amorous drinking habits? The look in his eyes turned hopeless and his mouth went dry.

"U-um... about last night..." How on earth was he supposed to word it? Sorry I came on to you? I didn't mean to force you into something you didn't want? You were great? I don't ache at all? He didn't know.

Sitting down at the table, the Swede placed a plate in front of himself and in front of Tino. He grunted for him to continue, because it seemed he had just stopped. Was he going to ask how he had gotten here? Or maybe complain that he had been sleeping in his clothes? Berwald could have lent him some pajamas, but they would probably be too big for him and start falling off... Oh crap, that was _not_ a good picture to have so early! Although, maybe he could just pass it off as a morning wood? No, that wouldn't work. He started thinking of old ladies and puppies being murdered.

Tino blushed deeply at his wordlessness and poked the food around his plate. "Um, whatever I did, if it was weird and made you uncomfortable, I'm really, really sorry!" He glanced to the side, curling deep within the blanket. "I just met you yesterday, and, um... I don't want you to think that I'm... like that all the time... only when I drink, I swear!"

His own voice was triggering a massive headache and he winced. "And I'll never drink again," Tino finished with a murmur.

Berwald cleared his throat, swallowing the egg he had just eaten. "W'sn't unconfort'ble." He didn't mind Tino trying to touch his abs, or Tino leaning against him for support. It was pretty cute actually. A light blush came to his cheeks as he wondered just how long Tino had been sleeping right by his head. But it didn't matter now, they were both sober and he would probably be ignored because everyone thought he was a freak. Admiring from afar was much better, he contemplated.

Tino tentatively reached out across the table, lightly touching the back of Berwald's hand with his fingertips.

"It's okay," he said quietly, staring adamantly at the fork in Berwald's hand. "You don't have to pretend. I know how bad I get. If I violated your trust, we can just... pretend this whole thing never happened."

Looking down at their hands, Berwald couldn't help it when he turned his upwards and trapped Tino's hand in his. "Not pr'tending." He mumbled. Why would he pretend to like being with Tino if he didn't actually like it? And who wouldn't want to be with him anyway? Sure, he was a bit difficult when he was drunk, but not _that_ bad.

Tino looked up, hopeful. "Really? Oh, that's..." He smiled. "That's wonderful. You're so nice, Berwald." He finally took a bite of the breakfast, regarding the taller sternly. "Too nice. Be careful not to let anyone take advantage of that. Okay?" He took another bite. "These are so yummy!" He didn't admit that they were better than his own, though. Out loud.

Berwald had to seriously concentrate on not getting a nose bleed. He was just so cute! But he let Tino's hand go and continued on his own food. "S'just bac'n n' eggs." He mumbled into his food. It's not like he did anything special with them. Maybe Tino wasn't used to home cooked meals? That means... he should make him lunches!

"Yeah, but mine are-" Well, so much for keeping it under wraps. "... less than desirable." He cleared his throat, looking up brightly. "But that's not important now! What _is_ important is... um..." He grappled for something to say, glancing around the surprisingly spacious kitchen. "Do you like cooking, Be?"

He was curious why he was called 'Be' but let it slide. "A little." He would like it more if he was cooking for Tino. Although, if Tino was the one cooking, he could wear an apron, and he would be like his wife. And then later, he could take everything off except the apron and... shit! Berwald grabbed a napkin as his nose started bleeding.

Tino stood up in alarm, leaning over the table. "Oh my gosh, are you all right? It's this darn winter season, your skin just gets so dry." He patted his pockets and found what he was looking for, retrieving a handkerchief. "Here," he said, taking the napkin and pressing the cloth into Berwald's hand. "Lean forward, now, there you go. Don't lean back- all the blood that goes to your stomach could make you sick."

The bleeding stopped soon, so Berwald went to the sink to wash it all off. That was so embarrassing! But it seemed that Tino didn't know what he was thinking about, so it wasn't too bad. He started washing the handkerchief, feeling bad that he got so much blood on it. Luckily he knew to use cold water instead of hot. "S'rry." He laid it out to dry, once it was all clean again. At least he hadn't gotten any on his clothes.

Tino smiled, waving a hand. "Don't be silly, it wasn't your fault. Cold, dry air does that, I'm afraid." He carried his plate to the sink and blinked, noticing the very obvious lack of dirty dishes... anywhere in sight. In fact, the kitchen was astoundingly meticulous. "Wow... you're a neat-freak, aren't you?"

"Er... M'ybe." He took both their plates and put them in the sink, and started filling it with water. There was no point in leaving it to the last minute, was there? Berwald glanced at Tino, wondering if he should offer a shower and a change of clothes. But, maybe he was planning on leaving soon.

Tino insisted on at least rinsing and drying the dishes, standing shoulder to shoulder with the taller man. His face was red for a while as he reminded himself of the things they must have done the previous night, but after a while, it became a little more comfortable, with his constant chatter and Berwald's occasional monosyllabic responses, and before long, every mess he'd made, from the bathroom to the bedroom, was clean.

He took Berwald up on the shower offer and cleaned himself thoroughly, his cheeks heating up and a slight shiver running down his spine as he realized that he was using Berwald's shampoo, and it smelled like him, and of course, given that they must have done the nasty the night before, the reaction his body gave to the scent was normal, right? And he was young, it was totally fine.

Right.

He rinsed hastily and brushed his teeth with his finger, toweling his hair dry as he left the steamy bathroom.

Fully dressed, showered, and fed, Tino didn't know how on earth Berwald could have proved himself a more hospitable host, and he told him so as he pulled on his sweater.

"Thank you so much," he said, a little bashful. "You've been so kind, and I've been such a menace. And thank you for..." Tino looked down, blushing. "For... t-taking care of me last night."

Nodding, the taller held the door open for him, and tried his best to give a reassuring smile. It may have looked a little menacing, but he still tried. His facial muscles weren't really used to it.

Unsure of exactly what to do, he pat Tino on the head, just like all those other times. After all, if they were to hug, it would be too girly, and if they were to shake hands, it would be too formal. So this is what he decided.

Tino shifted from one foot to the other before he stood on his tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss against Berwald's cheek. It shouldn't have made his heart pound as hard as it did, since they'd done so much more the night before. It was nothing Tino could put under his control and with that, he left, waving with a cheerful hastiness. "I'll see you at school, Be!" he called, quickly turning the corner.

The Swede stood there for probably ten minutes, feeling his cheek. Tino had just kissed him! It was everything he had thought it would be! But why did he kiss him? Oh well, did it really matter at this point? He went back in the house, head still in the clouds.

.oOo.

Berwald saw Tino at school. However, the Finn was with his friends, so he didn't see him. Berwald just watched him for a while, wondering what he had meant by that kiss. Soon the bell rang, so he started heading to his first class; cooking.

Finland carried out his day, keeping an eye out for a certain gentle giant all the while. The first few periods ended with no luck, giving Tino more and more hope for the rest of the day.

And he was not disappointed. Come lunch, when all of the students milled around the hallways, one particular shock of blond hair stood out above all the others. "Berwald!" he called, surprising the Norwegian beside him. Apparently the Swede didn't hear him, though, so he waved both of his arms in the air, calling out the other's name again. When that frightening expression turned toward him he shuddered, but the initial fright melted into gladness not a moment after. "Come here!" he gestured, a wide grin on his face.

When he had first seen Tino waving to someone, Berwald had looked around, wondering who it could be. It was only when he heard his name that he realized it was him. He started walking over there, slowly because of all the people in the hall. Especially being so big, it was tough getting through making sure he didn't hit anybody. He got closer to Tino, being pushed almost into him by the crowd, and he glanced to the other boy beside him. "Ya?"

Tino grinned. "Hi! How was your weekend?" he asked, smiling brightly up at Berwald. He couldn't help but find the other's long, meaningful silences to be a nice respite from all of the loud, obnoxious people in his life, and he felt like he accomplished something great when the taller of the two actually responded, despite the fact that the replies were rarely longer than three words at a time.

"F'ne. Yours?" It would have been great if Tino had stayed over Saturday. But even so, he had gotten a kiss, so he was happy. Maybe today, he would get another kiss goodbye? Normally, he just had his fantasies, but it had actually happened.

Christian held his lunch bag beside him, debating on whether he should just leave and go eat. His stomach grumbling made up his mind for him. "Tino, I'll be in the cafeteria." And hopefully a certain Dane would be in detention or something.

Tino jumped to attention, looking back and forth from the solid Swede standing rigidly before him and his retreating friend. "Um," he started, snagging Berwald's sleeve in his fingers, "would you like to come eat lunch with us?" He could tell that Berwald was one of the types to not know how to say no, though, and added, "Oh, but if this isn't your lunch period, you don't have to worry about it."

"I'm free..." Berwald said, slightly worried. He liked his spot in the corner, no one bothered him and that was how he liked it. If he sat with Tino, he would have to sit with his friends, and everyone stares, and everyone wondering why he was there. But, if his wife (as he had fondly named him over the weekend) wanted him to, then he couldn't say no.

Tino saw the uncertain flicker in his eyes, though, and he waved his hands about sporadically. "Y-you don't have to if you don't want to, I don't want to force you into anything!" Although he was a little disappointed if Berwald didn't want to eat with him... it made him feel weird and maybe a little disliked. He glanced up and up at Berwald, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from asking an embarrassing question.

Jaw set, Berwald grabbed Tino by the hand and started walking the way that the other boy had gone, supposing that they would be eating wherever he had gone. But then the Swede seemed to remembered something and quickly changed course, going for his locker. It was only when he felt a tugging on his hand that he realized he was still dragging Tino behind him. He let go with a small "Sorry."

"Hm? Oh." Tino blushed, shaking his head furiously. "N-no need to apologize!" He looked over his shoulder. "But, um, the cafeteria's that way...?" The Finn smiled quizzically. "So where are we going?" Berwald had pulled at him with such determined force that he must have had somewhere important in mind.

"Lock'r." He pointed ahead, where his locker was. It was down a hallway that was usually deserted, because it was just a dead end, but he liked it. Some days he would eat lunch here instead of going to the cafeteria. When they got to it, he opened it and took out two bags, and handed one to Tino.

Tino blinked, thinking that perhaps this was Berwald's way of asking for him to help him out by holding something while he dug around in his locker (which, in hindsight, was a silly thought, because darned if Berwald's locker wasn't the most tidy thing he'd ever seen), and reached for the other back to free up his hands.

Misinterpreting the offered hand, Berwald moved his own bag to his other hand and went to grab Tino's, so they could hold hands again. With his shoulder he closed his locker, and waited for the Finn to start walking so he wouldn't drag him again. So, this must mean they were dating. Because they had kissed, and now they were holding hands! Not to mention the lunch he had made for his wife.

A blush spread like wildfire at the forwardness and he was so startled that for a long moment, he couldn't move. All he could seem to do was look back and forth from his and Berwald's interlocked hands to the Swede's ice-blue eyes and back down again. Clearing his throat, he squeaked, "Um, Berwald?"

It was then the Swede realized that holding hands must not have been the intent, judging on how awkward Tino looked. He reluctantly let the hand go and started walking down the hall, but slowed to wait for his companion. He was probably embarrassed to be seen holding hands with him, so he really shouldn't have assumed that is what it had meant.

Tino noticed the kicked puppy look very quickly and flailed a bit before catching up, shyly snatching Berwald's hand back. "No, um, I was just surprised, is all. Really!" He smiled reassuringly and squeezed Berwald's hand.

If they'd already gone all the way, it wasn't such a big deal to hold hands, right? And Tino had never been one to discourage affection. "So, uh, what's this?" he asked, holding up the back in his other hand.

Doing too good of a job hiding his joy, Berwald continued forward. "Lunch." Tino had said he wasn't very good at cooking, so this would be better than a sandwich or whatever it was that he had brought. He had been making his own lunch anyways, so it wasn't too hard to just make more soup. Who said he couldn't be a husband that cooked? His wife would appreciate not having to do all the work in the house. He wondered briefly if he had gone a bit far with imagining them as a couple, maybe owning a small bakery or candy shop. But it wasn't like Tino would ever find out about his thoughts, right?

He looked over at the other bag in Berwald's grasp and pointed, eyeing him quizzically. "And that?" It would be so funny if Berwald ate two lunches. No wonder he was so tall! Maybe Tino should eat more if he wanted to get taller. He pondered it waiting for Berwald's response.

"_My_ lunch." Wasn't it obvious by the typical brown bag that just screamed lunch? But he didn't mind, maybe Tino was just trying to think of things to say. He was used to that, since most people didn't know what to do when around him, so tried to fill in the gap with meaningless nonsense. He hadn't pictured their hypothetical lives together that way, however. He had mostly pictured them living in comfortable, understanding silence.

Putting two and two together, Tino's face slowly split into a smile. "Be, did you make me lunch?" he asked teasingly, letting go of Berwald's hand long enough to look inside. He saw a pastel blue Tupperware container, a spoon and a napkin. "Well, I know that since you made it it's bound to be delicious, but pray tell me, exactly what is it?"

A light blush going across his cheeks at the praise, Berwald made his way to the cafeteria. "Soup." He opened the door and let Tino go in first, since he didn't know where the other usually sat with his friends.

Mathias, seeing Tino walk in, ran to greet him. "Hey! Where have you been, lunch started like forever ago! Anyway, doesn't it suck that Christian doesn't have lunch with us?" It was then he noticed the creep beside him, so he went to whisper in his cousin's ear, "Uh, don't look now, but that weird guy is right beside you. Maybe you have a stalker."

Tino frowned, shushing the Dane. "That's not very nice," he answered, just as quietly. "He's my new... friend," he said, hoping Mathias wouldn't look too far into it, as unlikely as that was. "So I would appreciate it if you weren't a jerk to him, all right? Oh, don't give me that look, you and I both know how much of a dick you can be sometimes."

"Hey! At least I have a dick!" The Dane yelled, and then noticed something. "OH MY GOD YOU'RE HOLDING HANDS! OH MY GOD YOU TWO ARE TOGETHER OH MY GOD YOU STOLE MY LITTLE TINO'S DIGNITY!" He then grabbed Berwald by the collar, ever if he was much taller than him.

Stepping back, the Swede wasn't sure what to do. Even with his immense size, he had never been in a fight before, so he waited for the fist that was sure to hit his face. He wasn't even aware that he had been doing anything wrong!

Tino wasn't naive enough to think that this could end well; Berwald looked far too lost to be throwing any punches himself, or even lifting his arms in defense, and the Dane was just idiotic enough to actually hit him for something so juvenile. So before anything could happen, Tino reacted in the best way he knew how.

Tears pooled up in his eyes and he sniffled. Loudly. "Mathias, you jerk!" he said through his crocodile tears, punching the hyperactive blond in the arm perhaps a little harder than necessary. "Berwald didn't steal anything! And if you're going to act like that," he sniffed, holding Berwald's hand up defiantly, "I won't eat lunch with you." He paused. "Ever again." Just for extra measure.

Instantly, Mathias let go and there were two tall men crouching so they could be at eye level with Tino, who was still crying. The Dane held out his hand and wiped the tears off his face.

Berwald, never having dealt with someone crying before, just rubbed his back in small circles in his back and mumbled a soft, "S'ok. S'ok." To try and calm him down. But why was he crying in the first place? Because Mathias had been mad that they were holding hands? That must be it.

"I promise, T, I'll be nice to the creep. I'm sure you willingly gave up your dignity." Mathias was saying, not even caring that 'the creep' was right beside them.

Tino frowned. The expression was for two reasons, really; the first being that Mathias was still calling Berwald mean names like the jerk he was, and Berwald didn't even seem fazed by it, taking it almost like it was an everyday occurrence, and that just didn't settle with him.

The second was the distinct feeling he got upon the inkling that somehow his masculinity was being jeopardized here; people were already staring as they walked past.

"I still have my dignity," he said defiantly, though pulling a stunt as low as crying probably drenched that comment in irony. "But I'm serious," Tino said sternly, holding a firm finger up near the Dane's face. "If you keep acting like that, I'm leaving."

"Pfft, where would you go, to eat in the bathroom with your boyf... I mean why don't we go to the table?" He couldn't help it if he kept saying things like that! What, was he expected to think before he said anything? And those things were probably true anyway.

The Swede followed behind silently, not really caring what the other man said. It wasn't as if he had never heard these things, so it had stopped fazing him a long time ago. But it almost made him smile when he realized that they were still holding hands.

Tino sat down, still a tad miffed at Mathias' antics, and took the Tupperware out of the bag, opening it up. It must have been thermal, because a very thin trail of steam coiled in the air before disappearing. He stirred it for a minute and took a sip, licking his lips and moaning quietly. "Oh, Be, this is sooo good! What's in it?" He regarded Berwald quizzically, raising the plastic to his lips.

Looking over, Mathias sniffed. "He made you soup? Let me test it! It might be poisoned!" Even if there was no point since Tino had already had some, but he still grabbed the spoon and stuffed it in his mouth. "Hey, this isn't bad... maybe I should test some more!"

Berwald grabbed the blond's wrist, hard. "S'for Tino."

Tino sighed, smiling at Berwald. "It really is delicious. I'm almost jealous; I could never cook anything as amazing as that." Noticing that the Dane's grip was going lax, he quickly snagged the spoon from him, smirking lightly before sticking it in his mouth. "But yay, it's all for me~!" When Mathias tried to make another grab for it, he swerved out of the way, his back falling against Berwald's shoulder in his lack of balance. "So," he said conversationally, righting himself again, "when was the last time Chris made you lunch?"

Face going red from anger, Mathias munched on his sandwich. "He makes me lunch all the time. Because he loves me. And it is way better than soup, it is like a whole leg of freaking lamb. And it's delicious." Well, Christian had made him lunch... once... sure he just threw a piece of bread at his head, but it still counted dammit!

The awkward blond pushed his glasses up before starting on his own soup. This group was definitely very strange. Were all friends like this? Soon another person sat down, the boy who had been helping Tino when he was drunk.

"Hey guys. I had a test in Math, and it took so long! Oh, hi." Freyr said when he saw Berwald. Hm, Tino must have been hornier than he thought when he pushed him over to the taller man on Friday.

Tino could read the look in his eyes like a book and held a finger up to his lips. "Hi, Freyr!" He lowered it before it could catch Berwald's attention. "Turns out, Berwald is the most amazing teenage cook on the planet. There isn't even a word for how delicious this is."

A pair of elbows settled themselves on the short blond's head. "Orgasmic?"

Tino turned bright red. "Chris! You should be in class!"

The Norwegian shrugged, seating himself beside Tino with quiet grace. "I've already finished the novel and written my essay. What's the point?" He swiped his finger in the Tupperware and licked the soup that dribbled down his finger. "And if anyone asks, I'm in the counselor's office. Bearing my soul."

Hugging his boyfriend, Mathias smiled. "Telling the counselor how in love you are? With me?" He got pushed away, but still tried to cling to him.

A small smile went to Freyr's lips as he ignored the strange couple that were fighting. "So Tino? Was Chris right? Was it... _orgasmic_?" A little twitch of his eyebrow indicated that he wasn't talking about the food. He wanted to know what had happened on Friday night. After all, it was him that had to explain to everyone why Tino had left the party, so he deserved some gossip!

"Oh, definitely, you should try-" And then it clicked. A flush of shame spread across his cheeks and he made sure Berwald's eyes were trained on the lovers' quarrel before he responded. "I mean, I'm sure it must have been, but I just don't remember..." Oh, crap, Berwald was looking at him in a funny, confused way. He smiled a little too brightly. "... I mean, twenty seconds has just been so long since I put my spoon down. So I'd better take another bite!"

Still a little confused, Berwald decided to just ignore it and watch as Tino wrapped his lips over the spoon, and slowly withdrew it with a slight moan, and watched a little dripped out of his mouth and he flicked his tongue out to catch it. Ah yes, Tino was the perfect wife.

Freyr snorted and looked down at his own plate. So, once again, liquor lips couldn't remember the important things when he was drunk. But he was still happy for his friend, it had been a while since he had gotten some.

Tino busied himself watching Christian try to escape Mathias' affections. After a moment, he slyly glanced over at Berwald.

His lips melted into a fond smile. A little drop of soup made a polka dot just below Berwald's mouth, and the Swede didn't seem to notice at all, transfixed with the funniest expression in reaction to the two across the table. Slowly, he reached up and swiped at the soup, holding it up when Berwald's attention became riveted on him. "Sorry, but there was a little extra on your face."

Glancing at the finger, Berwald gave a short nod. That was fine, he supposed. It was nice that Tino took it off his face, and didn't just leave it there like so many more people would do. He grabbed Tino's hand, and brought it to his mouth so he could lick it off his finger.

Tino thought his heart might have stopped beating for a short moment. The conversation around them certainly did. He could feel a bright red heat spreading like wildfire from his ears to the base of his neck at the sensation of Berwald's tongue slowly trailing over his fingertip.

It was so painfully tense to watch that even the frigid Norwegian felt a little pink, and one glance at his gawking brother didn't help. He was prepared to knock Mathias into next Tuesday if he requested to perform a reenactment. He could imagine where creative rights might lead the idiot's tongue.

Tino trembled when his heart began to beat (or rather, throb) again, and the look in his eyes could almost be described as something akin to hopelessness. He had trouble finding his voice. "T-too g-good to let even one drop go, h-huh?" he whispered.

Completely oblivious to the effect he had cause, Berwald shrugged. He didn't think the soup was that good, but it had actually tasted better when being licked off Tino's finger. He went back to his soup, finishing it rather quickly.

A mischievous smile appeared on Mathias' face, and he 'accidentally' dropped a bit of the mustard from his sandwich on Christian's pants. "Oh no! Look at that! Here, let's go to the bathroom and I'll help you clean that off!" Alright, so it wasn't exactly like what had just happened, but that just made the idea better because he could claim he came up with it all on his own!

"Oh no you don't," Christian hissed, and scowled in annoyance when he felt himself being hauled over a broad shoulder. He elbowed Mathias between the shoulder blades, but it wasn't as effective as he had hoped; the other only laughed and carried him out of the cafeteria.

Sensing a certain atmosphere about the remaining two at the table, Freyr stood, mumbling a half-arsed excuse that he knew neither Tino nor Berwald would hear, and left for the library where that cute Asian boy with the thick eyebrows assisted.

Tino cleared his throat quietly, half hoping to get Berwald's attention, half hoping he wouldn't notice.

Happy that they were alone, Berwald reached into his lunch bag and pulled out a Tupperware filled with strawberries. He opened it and put it between them, indicating it was for them to share. Well, mostly for Tino. He didn't much care for sweet foods. But he quite liked sweet _things_, puppies, kittens, babies, and cute little blushing Finnish boys. "You can have it." He muttered, looking away as he pushed the berries closer.

Tino looked at the big, bright red fruits and smiled. "Oh, yummy! I love strawberries!" He took one from the top, sinking his teeth into the ripe fruit. "Mmmm, so good," he groaned. "These aren't even in season!" He took another, licking the sticky pinkish juice from in between his fingers. "You must have a real eye for this sort of thing. You'd make the perfect wife," he joked.

Turning away even more, Berwald scratched the back of his neck. "You would m'ke a better one." He had said it so quietly, not really sure if he wanted Tino to hear it or not. After all, in his fantasy where they _were _husband and wife, he had already done many naughty things to his 'wife', and he didn't really want Tino to know about those.

"Hm?" Tino hummed in question, not sure if he'd heard the other correctly. Tino noticed that he was the only one enjoying the strawberries and plucked one from the plastic. "These are so yummy, Be, why don't you try one? Say 'ahh'~" he teased, holding it up near Berwald's lips.

Normally he would have refused the red fruit, because he didn't like them very much, but if his wife was going to feed it to him... Berwald opened his mouth and swallowed slightly when it was pushed past his lips. He bit into it, the tart taste exploding on his tongue. "Thanks." And now another fantasy was forming, dealing mostly with strawberries and whipped cream.

The Finn's smile was bright in return and he munched on another, licking around the semi-hollow inside before gently nibbling on the seedy red skin. "What's your favorite food, Be?" he asked, swiping the juice at the corner of his lips with his tongue. "I like salmiakki best, but I guess that's just be feeding the stereotypes." He laughed to himself, his mouth around another as he watched Berwald expectantly for an answer.

Unfortunately for the big man, the only thing he could think of was _you_. He didn't say it, though, so he shrugged. "Meatballs." He usually didn't care much what he was eating, as long as he didn't starve. But Meatballs were good, because they had a lot of protein. Not to mention his father had brought the famous Swedish meatball recipe when he moved to America, so he always made them as authentically as he could.

"Oooh, I love Swedish meatballs!" Tino exclaimed, happy to have found a common ground. "My mother was a bit Sweden fanatic, but my father was very adamant about," he scrunched his eyebrows together, squared his jaw, and spoke in a deep, rough voice, "'keeping our Finnish roots well watered.' So my mother fed me Swedish foods behind his back." He grinned fondly. "Ahh, how she hit me, though, when I professed to hating pickled herring."

At that he seemed to have realized something and frowned. "I think I'll take this opportunity to ask; what's wrong with you people? That stuff is disgusting!"

"Uh, I dunno." He had only had it once or twice. He thought it was good, actually. But he wouldn't tell Tino, because he obviously hated pickled herring and maybe he would find it gross that Berwald liked them. But really, it wasn't like Finnish didn't have strange, or downright weird, habits. Like saunas! He had heard that in the middle of winter, they would go into a sauna that was around 200F and then go out in the snow, and go back in the sauna! Insane. But he didn't mention any of this, for fear of insulting Tino's culture.

Tino sighed, his smile a contemplative one as he looked Berwald dead in the eye. "You know... I bet you think an awful lot. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a monologue going on in your head right now." He reached up, ruffling the Swede's hair experimentally, like he had done to Tino a few nights before. "And I know I talk a lot, but please feel free to stop me once in a while. I'd love to know more about you. I mean, you look pretty smart, and I don't think it's just the glasses," he rambled, "and I bet you have some pretty neat opinions and ideas and likes and dislikes and I just want you to know that you're free to tell me anything!"

A sweet smile lit up his face and he picked up another strawberry, pausing before it hit his lips. Tino pulled it back, regarding the little fruit with a slight wariness. It hadn't even been a week since Christian called him fat, and here he was stuffing his face in front of Berwald. N-not that he was self-conscious about his weight or anything! Certainly he had some pudge in rather embarrassing places, but that didn't make him grossly overweight, surely...

Berwald didn't know what to make of what Tino had just said. Sure, he supposed he thought a lot, and he got pretty good grades in school, but that didn't really mean he was smart. Besides, most of the things he thought of lately involved his wife. He watched the strawberry go back to the table, and he was slightly confused. Maybe Tino wanted him to feed it to him, like what had just happened a few minutes ago? So he lightly grabbed the berry and put it to the Finn's mouth. He knew the bell was going to ring any time now, and ruin his perfect lunch with his wife, but at least they got to spend a little time together.

Tino made a noise of surprise before letting out a muffled laugh, taking a bite. He let the tall boy feed him, his cheeks a little hot, and reached up to poke the crease between Berwald's furrowed eyebrows. "Don't frown," he said, taking a hold of the Swede's wrist and nibbling away at the rest of the strawberry.

Was he frowning? Berwald just figured it was his normal face. But the moment was ruined when the bell rang, and there were a few groans heard in the cafeteria. Well, he would probably have to wait till tomorrow at lunch to see him again. He stood up and grabbed the thing of strawberries, offering the last one to Tino. "I won't eat 't." He informed him, so that he wouldn't feel bad for taking the last one.

He looked from the strawberry to Berwald and back to the strawberry before taking it gratefully and grinning, craning up on his tiptoes to brush his lips against Berwald's jaw. "You're so sweet. Thank you, Be. And thank you for lunch. It was wonderful."

Blushing even more than when they held hands, Berwald busied himself with getting all the Tupperware together, mumbling something about getting to class. He had gotten two kisses! Two! When he was finished he turned back around and then realized something. He had gotten two kisses, but Tino hadn't gotten any! So, betraying blush still in place, he crouched down, and briefly pressed his lips to his cheek.

Tino made a noise and blushed so hard he nearly felt dizzy. Why this seemed so profusely intimate when they had done so much more before was something he couldn't explain (probably literally; the blood that should have been in his brain was too busy boiling across his cheeks to be of any help). He opened his mouth and closed it again, needing to say something, feeling the pleasant tingle where Berwald's lips had landed.

He... really liked Berwald. It hit him then, and with it came all the worries that he couldn't have avoided if he'd tried.

Looking down, he shuffled for a moment from foot to foot as a flood of students milled past. "Um, I know that Mathias is kind of a bully, and Chris says mean things sometimes, but they're really good people, and I hope you won't keep your distance because of them..." he scratched at the back of his neck, looking up sheepishly. "Not that I think you're shallow or anything, but you kinda strike me as the antisocial type, and... and..." He was grappling awkwardly for things to say and ended with a nervous laugh. "Well, don't want to be late for next period! Thanks again, Berwald!"

Standing in the emptying cafeteria, Berwald watched the blond leave. Was Tino asking for him to spend time with him and his friends? Well, if it meant he could spend time with his wife, then he didn't mind being with his friends as well. They weren't that bad, really. Mathias was fairly normal for what Berwald was used to, and Freyr was nice, since he had let Tino come home with him, and Christian was... well as long as he wasn't angry at _him_ he was fine with it.

He dropped the things off at his locker before getting his binder. Maybe he would be able to see Tino in the halls later today, but he doubted it. Their school was pretty big, so it was unlikely he would see him when everyone was just moving from class to class. Well, there was always tomorrow, so they could spend lunch together again.


	3. In Naught but a Towel

The bell had rung and Tino was out of the building faster than you can bat an eyelash. In the courtyard his fellow pupils laughed and chattered and occasionally made out (only a select, lucky few) on the green, and he wove in between their bodies toward his destination; Mathias. It was easy to identify the blond, because during the winter, for some strange reason he always wore a little red cap on his head to match his (perhaps over-dramatic) old Danish uniform jacket. It certainly made him stand out, and while it annoyed Christian, it was like a beacon for poor Tino, who was the shortest of them all.

He was caught completely by surprise when an arm suddenly curled around his form and pulled him back. The sudden halt to his forward motion around his abdomen made him wheeze for breath for a short moment before scrambling to release himself from the grasp. A chin ripe with scratchy facial hair brushed against his sensitive neck and he shuddered. "F-Francis?"

"_Bonjour, petit_." The Frenchman purred against his neck. "Where are you going in such a hurry? We could have fun, like that party so long ago. We could continue where we left off." He started sliding his hands lower, slowly bringing them closer to that part of the school yard that was hidden from everyone else.

Tino had never been very good at letting people down gently, and he struggled as nonviolently as possible, laughing nervously. "U-um, Francis, I can't," he said hurriedly, digging his heels in the ground when words seemed to fail. "No, really, that was only once, and only because of the alcohol, so please, I really need to get to my friends..."

The self-proclaimed master of love shook his head. "But you liked it so much, _cher_, I am sure you would enjoy it even more now." He kissed up Tino's neck, and ended at his ear.

At the same time, Berwald was walking out of the school. For the last few days, he had been eating lunch with Tino and his friends, and been making Tino a lunch every day. It was just wonderful, with his wife giving him a kiss on the cheek every time. He was just so cute! Although, the Swede admitted to himself that his fantasies might have been getting a little out of hand. Like right now, he could practically _see_ him hugging Tino from behind, licking his neck and...

Wait.

He didn't have long hair, why would he imagine himself with long hair and oh god that wasn't a fantasy, it was really happening! Berwald was suddenly overcome with jealousy, and he rushed forward to the two of them. "Get away-" He said, grabbing the offender by the long hair and ripping him from Tino, "from-" After pushing the man away, he wrapped his arms protectively around Tino, "My wife!"

Hands quickly going to his hair, Francis made sure that it was all still there. His bottom lip quivered as he made a hasty retreat. _Merde_ why did he always have to hit on the ones with the big boyfriends? Oh look there was Feliciano!

Tino stood bundled protectively in Berwald's arms, his mind slowing to a slug's pace. Francis' saliva was still cold and wet at the back of his neck and the way it chilled in the breeze was seriously discomfiting. The bewildered students that watched went unnoticed as a ten things battled to fall out of Tino's mouth. Only one won.

"Wife!"

Eyes going wide, Berwald just realized what he had let slip. He found himself blundering for words even more than usual. "I - Uh... Well..." He quickly fell into uncertain silence, letting Tino go finally now that the dirty man was out of sight.

Tino didn't let him go far, though; he grabbed Berwald by his uniform's lapels and yanked him closer, a frown marring his delicate brows. "Don't you dare stop talking now, I want to hear this." He knew he probably wouldn't intimidate the Swede, what with their size difference, but he did try his best.

Oh no, was Tino angry with him? Berwald didn't want that, he really didn't. But how could he possibly explain that he had been picturing their lives together for the past week? That he had thought of everything, from what colour their drapes would be, to the name of their small but lovable white dog, Hanatomago! He couldn't just tell him something like that! "Uh, you're... M'wife?"

Tino squinted at him. "... your wife?" He didn't release his grip on Berwald's uniform. A watered-down tantrum threatened to let loose, but he calmed the storm long enough to force through his forced smile, "What does that mean, exactly?"

Crap crap crap, why did he have to be so curious? Couldn't Tino just accept that Berwald considered him his wife and be done with it? ...Alright, even the big Swede realized that that was a hard thing to just accept. "I... We... You... would m'ke a good wife..." That was as far as he could possibly explain it. Even explaining this much almost had Berwald cringing, not wanting to see the reaction. If Tino asked any more, he would have to rip out of his grip and make a run for it, whatever the consequences.

The Finn could see Berwald shifting from foot to foot nervously and yanked at him until he was eye-level with the Swede. "I know you know I'm a man. I can't be your wife."

Not to mention he was clumsy and not so great... kinda bad... well, downright terrible at cooking, and he wasn't sweet or gentle and not at all what a good wife would be- but that was definitely not the point. "I think we need to talk. At length." He let go of Berwald's lapels and shifted his satchel to another arm. "Are you free tonight?"

Should he run? He had longer legs than Tino, so he could easily outrun him. Then maybe he could change schools. Or maybe just not go to school. He was smart enough, he could get his school work mailed to him or something. But... then Berwald would never be able to see Tino again, and that thought made him sad. So, instead of running, he did the only thing possible; he nodded.

Tino nodded, smoothing out Berwald's lapels and smiling subtly. "Good. When would be best for you?" He was considering whether or not to invite Berwald to his place; they would still have privacy, seeing as his parents had decided a week prior to take a sudden umpteenth honeymoon to Finland. But maybe the other would be more comfortable in his own home; in an unfamiliar environment, he might clam up entirely, and that just wouldn't do.

Shrugging, the taller of the two looked around to all the eyes that were still on them. "Now?" If only to get away from everyone staring at them. And there was no point in postponing the inevitable. Tino was going to break up with him, (had they even been going out?) because Berwald was a creep that thought of him as his wife. Better to rip a band-aide off quickly, right? Even if there were a lot of little hairs that would never grow back that hurt like hell.

He nodded, brushing the bangs out of his eyes. "My house or yours?" he asked then, looking at Berwald through his lashes. A scary look was back on the Swede's face, making Tino cringe. It wasn't necessarily out of fright; more like he knew that something unreasonably silly was going on through the other's head, and he didn't know what.

He would be allowed into Tino's house? "Yours." That would be so much better than going to his own. At least when his fantasy future life was ruined, he would be in a nice place. Surely Tino's house would be much better than his own. His parents would be home anyway, and he didn't want to go through the awkward conversation when his mother flustered over his 'new friend', saying she was glad that her son was finally making friends, and then have Tino break up with him right then and there. It would not be a good idea.

The odd look wasn't going away, and it made Tino feel uneasy. He shifted his satchel higher on his shoulder and slipped his hand into Berwald's, pulling him through the sea of students out to the sidewalk. 'Text me later' he mouthed to Freyr, who noticed them at their usual meeting place. He wanted to be gone before Christian and Mathias saw them, knowing that questions would be raised. The Icelander nodded briefly, turning back to the other two and Tino tugged Berwald down the walk in the opposite direction. "It's this way," he explained.

Following easily, Berwald remained silent. He was so focused on thinking about what that was no doubt about to happen that he didn't even notice they were holding hands. A few minutes of walking later and Tino turned into a drive way, leading to an average, two story house. Well, this was it, then, it probably wouldn't take long. He would probably be leaving in about ten minutes.

Tino tossed his keys on the stand next to the door as he entered, stomping up the stairs to his room in the quaint little townhouse. "My parents are away," he explained, opening the door to his room.

It was a calm, pale blue with the blinds pulled halfway up in the window and a few posters of hardcore Finnish bands smattered around on the walls. A little desk rested between the closet door and the bed, which was, admittedly, probably far too large for a below-average-height teenage boy. But being spoiled was the price he paid for being an only child.

He scrambled to make his messy bed, and when he was done he plopped down on the edge, patting the mattress next to him, his smile sheepish. "Don't look so nervous. Come sit."

Awkwardly moving into the room, Berwald quickly made up his mind and went to sit - in the chair in front of the desk. It was a little small for him, but it was better than sitting on the bed would have been. It would make him much too vulnerable to be sitting in such a personal way with the person who was about to tell him that he didn't want to see him anymore.

The shorter of the two was slightly off-put by the gesture, but quickly covered it up with an apologetic grin. "I'm really sorry, Be," Tino started, scooting back on the bed and kicking his shoes off before folding his legs comfortably. "About earlier, I mean. You saved me from what probably would have been a traumatizing experience and I just yelled at you. I was surprised, is all." He laughed a quiet little laugh. "It was very... out of the blue and unexpected. I don't think a man ever expects to... well, you know." He blushed. "So, do you want to tell me exactly why you called me... that?"

Strange... this didn't seem like the start of a break up. Not that Berwald had ever been broken up with, because he had never actually dated someone before, but he had seen movies. Of course, Tino still wanted him to explain the whole 'wife' thing, so it would happen eventually. So he might as well tell him. Well, most of it, anyway, not the R-rated stuff. "Wives... don't leave." He sighed, and took off his glasses so he could massage the bridge of his nose. "N' they luv their h'sbands." According to most movies, anyways. And his mom loves his dad, and Berwald wanted that. But now he closed his mouth, having just said more than he had in probably a year at least.

But Tino knew he had cracked some sort of barrier, hearing what was perhaps a proverbial fountain of dialogue from Berwald's mouth, and wasn't about to let it go now. He pushed himself off of the bed and padded toward Berwald slowly, with purpose. "Okay," he said, softly, as though he were speaking to a wild, timid creature, stopping when he stood before the other, knee to knee. "So, what does that have to do with me?"

Berwald was worried he would get laryngitis from talking so much. Not to mention the fact that he really didn't want to have to tell him all this. It was just making the break up worse. It would hurt more if he told Tino everything that he felt, just to be told that he wasn't liked anymore.

He looked down so he wouldn't have to see Tino's inquisitive violet eyes, and stared at his legs instead, which were so close. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed them, bringing Tino slightly closer. "I... want you t'be m'wife."

Tino grabbed Berwald's shoulders to balance himself, his cheeks heating. There were so many thoughts blurring in his head, and there weren't enough words in the English language to possibly do them all justice. "O-oh?" was all that came out.

Berwald was self-conscious, he knew, and it was very apparent the way he buried his face into Tino's abdomen, probably just to avoid looking at him. Was that what all of the distance and weird faces were about? "Oh, Be..." He slowly lifted a hand, stroking the soft, short hair at the base of Berwald's skull.

Wives didn't leave. Berwald wanted him to be his wife. He blushed, bending over slightly to wrap his arms around the Swede's neck. "What are you thinking?"

What was he thinking? That maybe he could cop a feel before he got kicked out. But he didn't, and he didn't say that either. The feeling of Tino's fingers in his hair was nice though, so he let himself concentrate on that as he responded. "That... M'gonna miss you." It would be even lonelier now that he knew what it was like to actually spend time with one of his crushes.

Tino's fingers paused. He frowned slightly, pulling back and coaxing Berwald's chin up and cupping his cheeks so that he could see the troubled boy behind the glasses. "What do you mean? Are you going somewhere?"

Crap, more questions. Berwald swore that this was more talking than he had ever done in his life. "Y're gonna break up w' me." He may have been forced to look up, but his eyes went to the side, avoiding Tino's. He didn't understand the Finn's confusion, however. Who wouldn't want to break up with someone that they just found out thought of them as a wife?

Well, that was a surprise. Of all the reactions Tino could have had to that statement, he wasn't sure he'd picked the right one; he laughed. It was a little uncontrollable and silly for the mood, and the look Berwald gave him was scandalized, so he leaned down, laughter still rolling off his lips in bursts as he pressed a kiss to Berwald's mouth.

Pulling back, chuckling, he readjusted Berwald's glasses, shaking his head. "I wasn't even sure what we were," he confessed, his smile still wide, but sobering. "I didn't know if you were just humoring me, or... well, I wasn't sure."

Berwald was, to say the least, completely confused. He sat there, mouth slightly ajar. So... he wasn't going to be broken up with? Because that did not seem like a goodbye kiss. He didn't know what to say to what Tino had just said, so remained silent, thankful for the option after so much talking. He just watched the smaller giggles fall from the smaller blond's lips. But he was still bewildered by the turn of events. He had gotten his first kiss on the lips, after telling extremely embarrassing and condemning things. It just didn't make sense, and Berwald didn't like it when things didn't make sense.

He bit the inside of his cheek, watching Berwald's confused expression. He supposed now would be the time to come clean. "I've barely known you for a week, but..." he blushed. "But I kind of really like you, Berwald. E-even though your first impressions of me were so bad, and you probably think I'm a slut or something," and maybe he was, he thought bitterly, "but I... haven't really liked someone like this before." Tino laughed sheepishly. "Which is really embarrassing to admit, as a healthy seventeen-year-old boy, but what're you gonna do, right?"

Being better with actions, the quiet Swede pulled Tino a little closer so he could kiss him on the lips, just like he had done a few minutes ago. But why would he call himself a slut? Sure, Berwald's fantasy wife had a slutty side, especially when he would wear red fish nets and a Santa hat for Christmas eve, but that was only in his head! Besides, _that_ Tino would be less slutty if he just wore the Santa hat where it was supposed to go, but once again, that was all in Berwald's mind!

As it turned out, Tino definitely liked this better. Better than talking, anyway. Better than rambling without knowing exactly what he was trying to convey. He returned the kiss with enthusiasm so that Berwald wouldn't get any silly ideas about him wanting to break up or something again, planting himself daintily on Berwald's leg. His hands molded themselves around the Swede's neck, his thumbs positioned behind Berwald's ears as he parted his lips, yielding to his... friend? Partner? Lover? Did it really matter at this point?

Eyes closed, Berwald eagerly pressed forward when in was obvious Tino was alright with it. Since it was his first kiss, he wasn't really sure what to do or if he was doing it right, but he opened his mouth as well and was a little surprised to feel the Finn's tongue. In a second, however, he realized that he was supposed to move his tongue, as well.

He just couldn't believe that this was actually happening. This was way better than what he imagined kissing would be like. Tino obviously knew what he was doing, and it felt amazing to the Swede. But then he heard the blond make a small sound, so he pulled back, wondering if he had hurt him somehow. He couldn't have accidentally bitten his tongue or something, could he? He hadn't felt anything like that... "Y'ok?"

The Finn grinned goofily, his cheeks red. Berwald was just so cute, looking so concerned. And though he obviously wasn't very... practiced at it, the heartfelt intention behind it more than made up for skill. "Yeah," he answered, pressing a short kiss to the corner of Berwald's mouth. "I'm really okay." His little noise of appreciation had probably spooked Berwald, and that was just so terribly adorable. "And how're you holding up?"

Shrugging, Berwald took his fogged up glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. He wasn't really sure what he meant by holding up. He was happy, if that's what he meant, because not only was he still with Tino, but they had just kissed for at least a minute. But now, he wasn't sure what to do. Could they go back to kissing? Or maybe he could make something for the both of them to eat, since the smaller Scandinavian liked his cooking so much.

Tino wilted at that. Was he no good at kissing? Maybe he wasn't impressed, since they'd already... done the deed? No, he chastised himself, this was Berwald here. He wasn't one for words or easily discernable gestures. So Tino took his hands and placed them innocently on Berwald's chest, waiting for the Swede to make a move instead.

Looking down at the hands, Berwald found that they were beautiful hands. So small and delicate, just like the Finn. He took one of them and put it up to his own, large bulky hand. So much of a difference between the two. He figured that Tino would have no problems doing the fine crafts that he just couldn't manage in his art class.

The shorter blond blushed a bit at the gesture; it really wasn't what he had been expecting at all, but by no means did he... dislike it.

"If you make a wife joke," he mumbled, noticing the difference between the texture and size of their palms, "I'll have to hit you."

"S'not a joke." He let their hands go and looked back at Tino. No, it definitely was not a joke. He would love to have this man as his wife, if it was legal. Maybe they could move back to Sweden and get married. That would be nice, even if it was extremely unlikely.

A dark heated flush spread across Tino's face at the tone in Berwald's voice, and the deep, dark look in his eye that spoke volumes of his sincerity. He swallowed thickly and slipped his fingers in between Berwald's, squeezing.

"I'm not your wife," he said stubbornly, "but... but I do want to be with you. Really bad, actually," he mumbled under his breath, raising his eyes to Berwald's. "But you need to know that I... I get worried really easily, and I'm really bad at a lot of things, and I drink way more than I should, even though I tell myself not to, and I talk a lot, and because of that I need lots of confirmation, so... so..." he faltered a bit, squirming in Berwald's lap. "So if you can put up with me and... and open up on occasion, that would be nice, okay?"

Once again deciding that action was better than words, Berwald took the arm that was attached to the hand that was holding his, and started to plant small kisses all the way up. He had seen it in a movie, and thought it was a very romantic thing to do. If Tino needed constant confirmation, than it would have to be through things like this, because the large Swede didn't think himself capable of saying things like 'I love you' all the time.

Tino's breath hitched and he watched Berwald pepper his arm with open-mouthed kisses, the spots where his lips touched burning through his skin. A shiver ran down his spine. His toes curled and uncurled, and the rest of him grew restless, not knowing what to do or how to reciprocate. For once, his motor mouth had lost momentum, and was sealed tight.

A tiny moan trembled in the back of his throat, dying into a whimper when Berwald's mouth reached the sensitive crook of his elbow.

At the sound, the large student figured that it had felt good for Tino, so he licked the spot a bit, and sucked some skin into his mouth. But then he pulled away, seeing he had made a slightly red mark, and worried that he had hurt him, so Berwald kissed it better and looked up.

Tino's mouth was dry, and he tried to swallow, knowing his face must have been terribly red. He parted his lips, hoping, searching for something to say, and failing miserably. "... Hi," he said pathetically, his lips twisting into some kind of smile.

Not entirely sure why that was said, Berwald just blinked and said it back. But normally that would be said when greeting someone.

It was then that Tino's stomach gave a small growl. Berwald stood up, placing the Finn on the ground, and asked where the kitchen was. Hopefully there would be something he could make quickly for the two of them.

Even though he definitely was hungry, he bemoaned the lack of contact with a quiet whine. "Downstairs," he said, his voice slightly sullen before he pulled himself up, shaking off the attitude. There would be plenty of time for more Berwald-touching later, he assured himself, which contributed greatly to his improving mood. Within seconds, a smile was back on his face. "I'll show you."

The kitchen was perhaps the largest room in the house to accommodate his parents' equal passions for foreign foods, their refrigerator reaching a size of ridiculous proportions (his father absolutely _would not_ integrate the Swedish leftovers with the Finnish, so his mother had her own portion of the refrigerator dedicated solely to that), everything a sleek and modern black.

Doing a quick look around to check what they had, Berwald was quite impressed. It was well equipped, even more so that the kitchen at his house. He quickly set about making an easy snack, making sure to dirty the least possible dishes. When he was finished, he put the plate on the table and started filling the sink with soapy water for when they were finishes eating. He was about to sit down across from Tino, but changed his mind and went to sit right beside him.

Tino, who had pulled out his homework while waiting (though he hadn't actually gotten any of it done, being too busy staring at Berwald and all), pushed it all aside and asked, "What did you make?"

"Tuna melt." It wasn't very fancy, but he had just needed something quick to make because he hadn't wanted Tino to have to wait long. Berwald scooted a little closer, so their shoulders were touching a little. Not so close that it was uncomfortable, just close enough.

It was something Tino was unfamiliar with, but if Berwald made it, there was no way it could be bad. He took a bite, melted with pleasure, and told him so. "Mm, I bet you could even make pickled herring taste good," he gushed, taking another bite. He held one up when Berwald made no move to take a bite himself.

Shrugging, Berwald took his sandwich and started eating it. He had never actually made pickles herring, it had always been his father that had made it. But he was sure that if he made some, it would taste just like normal pickled herring, because all he did was follow the recipe. As always, he kept that to himself. Tino wouldn't be interested in many of the things he thought about, so why bother voicing them.

As they ate, Tino chattered on and on about many things; Berwald's amazing cooking led him into a one-sided conversation about his parents and their weird food habits, which in turn fed into a spiel about their respective Scandinavian homelands, and somehow came full circle, winding down to close with another compliment about Berwald's tasty mastery as he licked his fingers clean.

Berwald enjoyed listening to him talk about anything. Even more if Tino didn't ask him any questions. After all the talking today that he was unused to, it was nice to just listen.

Once all the food was gone, he stood up and started doing the dishes. He had dirtied them, so it was only right that he clean them. The only problem was that he didn't know where they went, so he left them in the sink to dry.

Tino knew that, even if he threw a fit about it, Berwald probably wouldn't have let him take care of the dishes, so he saved his energy, waiting for Berwald to finish before stepping up to his side with a dry dish towel. "Thank you for the snack," he began, drying the dishes and opening the cupboards to put them in their proper places. "And thank you for coming over. It gets so quiet when my family is gone, you know? Especially at night." He laughed. "Don't tell anyone, but sometimes I get spooked at silly, easily explainable things when I'm alone."

"I could sleep ov'r." It was out of his mouth before he thought about it, a first for the Swede. Tino said he was lonely at night. Berwald couldn't let him be lonely. They didn't have to sleep in the same beds or anything, but it would be nice to wake up and make him breakfast. Just as if they were married. Well, if they were married they would sleep in the same bed, but the concept still remained.

Tino blinked, a blush gracing his cheeks. "Eh? Really? Oh, no no, I didn't mean to... you don't have to feel responsible, Be, that wasn't my intention at all, really!" He felt silly now; he hadn't meant to rope Berwald into making any offers, he was just bearing a naked truth. But when the other's face started to fall, he jumped to attention, flailing his hands around hopelessly. "Not that you aren't welcome to stay, you are!" He looked down, hiding his red face. "Um, y-you're welcome to stay over whenever you like, actually... b-but only when you want to!" He insisted.

After a long phone call to his parents, consisting of mostly his mother happy at the fact he had a friend and her telling him that he better be nice and keep him, it was decided. Berwald was going to stay over. Since none of Tino's pajamas fit him, he said it would be easier to just sleep in his boxers. It was how he usually slept in the summer anyway, so why not? But neither had broached the subject of _where_ he would be sleeping.

Berwald looked down at his book bag, wishing that he would have somehow had the foresight to pack something. Of course it wasn't really his fault, since he had never stayed over at anyone's house before. He didn't have any homework, so that wasn't a problem, but he wondered if Tino did.

The shorter of the two saw Berwald's questioning glance at the papers on his kitchen table and began shuffling them all into a small pile. "Oh, no, I won't do these until you're showering or otherwise occupied, don't worry," he assured, assuming that Berwald was wondering if he'd be competing with the homework for Tino's attention. "They're not all that important, you know? It's all good."

Clearing his throat, Berwald shifted a bit closer. "I could h'lp." Since he had his notes from English, and it looked like that is what Tino needed to do. They should be studying the same things, since they had the same English teacher. Not to mention he had an A in almost all his classes, besides the frustrating B in his Fine Arts class. It always bothered him how the class he wanted to succeed most in was the one he was worst at.

Red spread across Tino's cheeks. Could Berwald know that English was his worst grade by an entire letter...? No, impossible. Well. Improbable, anyway.

"Oh? That would be... really nice of you, thank you." He smiled and plopped down in a chair, pulling a pencil from his bag. "Actually, there are some things I'd like you to check, if that's all right..."

For the next hour, they worked on the essay Tino had to do on the book Lord of the Flies. Berwald tried to show him the significance of each character, but in the end just ended up finding ways to show him. At the end, he reread it and gave a nod. "S'good." The Swede said and put the paper down with a small nod.

"Eh? Really?" He gave a relieved smile. And then it turned down suspiciously. "Don't lie to me, Be. I'm no good at essays, and everybody knows it. You can't be biased." Tino leaned in closer, doing his best to give Berwald the evil eye.

Giving a small smile, the larger student took off his glasses. After he had helped him for an hour, how could it not be good? "Still good." And now that it was getting late, he should really make something for supper. After that... they would have to make a decision about where he was going to be sleeping.

Tino seemed to be like-minded, for he popped up and stretched his muscles before hopping over to the refrigerator and contemplating their options. "You hungry, Be?" he asked, pushing some Tupperware aside on his father's side of the refrigerator.

He hummed a confirmation, going up to stand behind the smaller of the two, and Berwald wrapped his arms around his shoulders and let them hang down on Tino's chest. He supposed they could just have left overs, since it seemed like Tino was hungry.

Tino touched his arm, craning his neck upward. Did that mean yes? "Is there anything in particular you'd like to have? My dad's a bit of a fanatic, you know, and we've got pretty much... everything."

Berwald grunted again, and bent his head down so it was resting on Tino's shoulder, right by his ear. Now that he had had the experience of kissing, he thought it was time to do it again, so Berwald put two fingers on Tino's chin and turned his head to the side so they could kiss.

Well. That certainly wasn't objectionable. Tino smiled against his lips, sliding a tentative hand behind Berwald's neck and sliding his fingers through the wheat-blond hair there, yielding to him. He parted his lips sweetly at Berwald's gentle insistence.

Learning quickly, he slipped his tongue into the waiting mouth. Berwald enjoyed kissing him, and wished they could continue forever. Soon they would need air, but for right now they could survive off each other. He felt Tino's hand clench his hair, pulling on it slightly.

Berwald had such a light, soft mouth, Tino mused, taking his lower lip between his teeth and giving a nibble. It was pleasant and sweet and slow, like... like the kiss of a lover.

He blushed bright red, his nose bumping into Berwald's as they both shifted at the same time. "Sorry," he laughed into his mouth.

Deciding they needed a new position, Berwald pulled away and took Tino by the shoulders. Then he went to one of the chairs in the living room, sat down and pulled the smaller boy with him. Yes, that was much better for kissing. Now his neck wouldn't get sore from bending down so much.

Tino made a little noise at the back of his throat and shifted into Berwald's lap, straddling his thighs to make it easier on both of them. His hands rested on the other's shoulders, sliding to his neck and back comfortably. "Weren't you hungry?" he asked, pulling back not even a centimeter from the other.

He grunted, having completely forgotten about food. He would rather have Tino, he was much more scrumptious than any food he could make. Berwald pulled him forward, mouth going to his neck this time to lightly place kisses all along there. After all, it hadn't been long since they ate last, they could probably wait for a bit. This would be much more fun, anyway.

"Oh!" Tino exclaimed, a tingle running down his spine. His torso curved against Berwald's chest when the larger man pulled at him and his arms wound around Berwald's neck. He was sure the Swede could hear his heart beating double time, louder even than his hitched breathing.

Berwald was about to push the Finn's shirt up, but wasn't sure if it was alright to do that right now. They had only started actually kissing today, after all. Then he started wondering if Tino had done stuff like this with other men. After all, he seemed to know what he was doing. Berwald hoped that he hadn't been with anyone else, but wasn't sure, and he didn't want to ask for fear of the answer.

The hand hesitating at his lower abdomen alerted Tino to the presence of what he assumed to be Berwald's inherent shyness, so he took a hold of the Swede's jaw, lifting his face and planting a quick, lingering kiss on the corner of his lips before slipping the thin shirt over his head and letting it fall over the back of the couch.

Glasses shaking slightly as he took them off, Berwald looked at the smooth skin before him. He began running his large hands over it, amazed at how creamy it looked compared to his own. "B'tiful." He whispered, one of his fingers brushing over Tino's nipple. At the reaction he got, he did it again and started playing with them.

He couldn't believe Berwald had been smooth enough to have discovered so quickly just how sensitive the rosy nubs were. At the experimental, clumsy pinches and rolls he tilted his head back, his eyelids fluttering closed at the exhilaration running through his veins. "Mmm," he hummed, opening his glazed eyes to gaze at a spectacle-less Berwald. His heart tripped over itself. His ice-blue stare was focused and intense, his hair tousled from Tino's own wandering hands, his strong jaw tight with arousal, all for him. Tino thought that he had never seen anything more libido-engaging in his life.

The taller student wondered, briefly, what response he would get if he used his mouth on the sensitive spots. After all, if Tino liked it when he played with them, he should like it more when he licked them, right? That is what caused Berwald to bend down, tongue darting to lick along one of them. He heard a small moan, and felt his own arousal pulse in response. The next time he licked them, he caught the bud in his teeth, careful to not bite down.

Tino realized after a moment that his hips were rolling against Berwald's thighs involuntarily for some much-needed friction and he swore the blush ran from the tip of his nose to his shoulders. He vowed to make a conscious effort to still his embarrassing movements.

But when Berwald tugged his nipple in between his teeth, all bets were off. He was so startled at the thrilling sensation that he accidentally lept from the other's lap with a squeal and fell to the floor in a heap.

Eyes going wide, Berwald got off the chair and knelt down beside him. "Y'ok?" He asked, concerned. Hopefully he hadn't hit his head or anything when he fell. He reached out a hand to help him up, wondering what had happened. He had just suddenly fell backwards!

After letting Berwald help him back up on the couch, he covered his face with his hands, groaning. "M'fine," he mumbled, not even daring to look at Berwald. "I'm sorry I'm so lame," he said woefully. He must have looked so silly, hunched over in shame, completely shirtless, his ears a bright, blaring red.

"S'ok." Berwald kissed him on the cheek to try and comfort him, and then went to the kitchen. Now that he wasn't distracted anymore, his mind was back on supper. A quick look in the fridge and he had chosen a few things from both cultures that would go well together. He could tell Tino had come in from the living room, without turning around.

Tino had slipped his shirt back on and shifted from foot to foot, still a little embarrassed. "Are you making dinner?" he asked, and at Berwald's silent nod, he cleared his throat. "Good. Thank you. Fix whatever you'd like. I'm going to go take a quick shower, okay?"

The big man nodded, intent on his task. Well, maybe he wasn't fully focused on cooking, since at least half his mind was now thinking of Tino in the shower, soapy water running over the skin that he had just moments before been kissing. Skin that could rival that of a princess. He hummed quietly, picturing how his 'wife' would wash himself, his hands going down and cleaning his slender legs.

Tino traipsed up the stairs and into the bathroom adjoined to his room and turned on the shower faucet. Stripping all of the clothing from his body, he stepped into the hot spray.

Once his body was all soaped up, he finally couldn't help himself any longer and slowly slid a slender hand down his abdomen to what still pulsed and throbbed with desire. Tino bit his lower lip to keep from making noise, thinking of Berwald's large, gentle hands and his curious mouth until he came, panting and leaning against the moist tile walls.

He made his way back down to the kitchen not even ten minutes later, drawn in by the enticing scents therein. "Something smells really good," he said cheerfully upon entering.

Looking behind him, Berwald saw that Tino's hair was still wet, a drop falling onto his shoulder and going under the collar of his shirt. It looked so delicious, he almost went up to him and licked the trail up. Instead he got two plates, filling them with food, and went to look for cups. "Good sh'wer?" He asked curiously, grabbing two glasses and filling them with water. Maybe he should also have a shower later, he felt like he needed one.

"Really good," he said before he could stop himself and flushed, hoping Berwald wouldn't read any farther into it. He plopped himself into a chair and waited patiently for Berwald to finish, a bright smile on his face. "So what did you make?"

"Jus' leftov'rs." He started eating, watching if Tino would like it. Well, since it was leftovers from his own house, it made sense that he would like it, wouldn't he? Of course, Tino seemed to like almost everything. Except pickled herring, since he kept complaining about it.

Tino tried not to make a disappointed face. He'd so wanted to eat more of Berwald's cooking. Ah well. "How do you like it?" he asked, lifting the fork to his own mouth. "My mother's terribly proud of it, even though it just makes my father mad when she combines Swedish and Finnish recipes. Secretly, I think it's hilarious."

Nodding, Berwald finished his bite. "She Swedish?" Tino had mentioned a few times that his mother liked Swedish cooking, so he was wondering for a while if she was Finnish like his father or not. His last name was obviously Finnish, but that didn't say anything about his mother.

The shorter nodded. "Predominantly, yes, although I'm pretty sure she has Finnish blood in her; my father insists. I think it's funny; he jeers at the Swedish about hockey, and whenever they lose Eurovision, and at my mother's cooking. But despite all of that, it's obvious that he thinks the world of her, Swedish blood and all." He smiled with pride. "I'm actually pretty fluent in both, believe it or not."

"_Låter fint_." _Sounds nice_. Berwald said, a small smile on his face. He didn't know Finnish, but he knew Swedish from both his parents. He had learned that language before English, actually. He had gone to Kindergarten knowing only a few words of English. His mother always blamed herself, saying it must be that reason that he had grown up so antisocial, but he never minded. Most of the time, he liked being alone. He wondered how Tino had changed that.

"_Tack_," Tino replied with a smile in return. "You know," he said, thoughtfully, "you're a really good listener. Most people just ignore me or tell me to shut up when I ramble, but you... well, it's just nice to know someone so patient."

Berwald was a little surprised that people wouldn't want to listen to Tino. His voice was so soft and nice, who wouldn't want to listen to it? Sometimes the Swede found himself just listening to the sound of it, not necessarily the words, but usually he was actually listening. He would much rather listen to someone than talk himself.

Tino let him be for a while, though, and they ate in a comfortable silence. He spent most of dinner just watching Berwald's movements. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin as long as he wasn't talking, but the minute he was expected to open his mouth, a curtain of awkwardness fell over the boy like a shroud. He wished he knew why. Berwald had such a low pleasant voice; it was a shame he didn't use it more often.

He contemplated it all throughout dinner and pounced the minute Berwald finished, snatching up his plate as quickly as lightning. Cackling, Tino gathered all the dishes in record speed and took them to the sink. "Aha, now _you_ have to sit and relax while I pull my weight!"

Tino felt rather victorious.

Giving a small chuckle, he got up. He never minded doing the dishes, but now that Tino had seemed to make it into a game, he wanted to play along. Once the sink was filled with water and suds, he went up to him and pushed him aside. Then Berwald grabbed a handful of suds, and threw them to Tino. They landed on his face, making him look like he had a big white beard. "Santa." A different costume than the one his fantasy wife would wear on Christmas, but Santa nonetheless.

Tino was briefly shocked into stillness by the playfulness the Swede was displaying. Then his fingers lifted to his chin, wiping the dripping suds from his face, a devious smirk blooming. "So that's how it's going to be, is it?" he laughed, and giving a battle cry, he scooped some of the foamy white from the sink and smeared it over Berwald's forehead, leaping away when the taller snatched at him.

Taking the rest of the bubbles in his hands, Berwald let them plot onto Tino's hair. That was pretty much all the suds there were, besides the ones they were covered with. The Swede kind of felt sorry, so he picked Tino up and put him on the counter, so he could get some of the bubbles out of his hair. It had been fun for the first little bit though, especially with the white in his hair, making him look even more like the Christmas icon.

Tino beamed at him, leaning slightly into the touches of those big hands. Even for just a brief moment, Berwald had shown a playful side of himself, and it made Tino happier than he could properly express. Coming down from the silly adrenaline high he leaned forward while Berwald combed his hands through Tino's hair, kissing him on the nose.

Having been expecting a kiss on the mouth, Berwald felt stupid when he closed his eyes. But oh well, it didn't seem like his partner noticed. Once all the suds were out, he started on the dishes, passing them to Tino when they were cleaned, so he could dry them and put them away. So in the end, he technically had won the game that they had started.

Tino had noticed. He pouted, grumbling about it under his breath as he exaggeratedly yanked the dishes away from Berwald when he finished and stuck his nose in the air.

When the last dish was put away, Tino swung his legs out from the countertop back and forth. "You won this round," he admitted, "But it is _I_ who will be doing the breakfast dishes. All of them." He held up a finger before Berwald could give him a look of protest. "Ah ah. I don't want to hear it."

Letting his head drop, Berwald agreed with a small nod. He liked doing the dishes, so he wasn't sure why Tino wanted to fight about it. Maybe he liked doing them as well? But oh well, it was finished for tonight so it didn't matter much. As long as he made something good for breakfast, he figured it would be fine.

He checked his watch. It was time for the news show he usually watched, but he didn't say anything. Tino would probably find it boring anyway.

Tino hopped off the counter and glanced at Berwald's watch too. "What's up?" he asked curiously. "Is there something you need to do, or are you just being punctual?"

"Um... S'nothing..." After all, he could just read about anything that happened in the paper tomorrow. His mother would murder him if she found out he made his new friend sit through the news with him.

Tino frowned. He folded his arms and leaned in close, giving Berwald what he hoped was a terribly intimidating look. "There's something you're not telling me." He held up a stern finger. "Berwald! That's the worst thing you can do in a relationship! The first rule to being with someone is to be honest. Besides..." he finished, his eyes softening, "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't genuinely interested."

Berwald perked up at the word 'relationship'. Well, he could tell him, it didn't mean they were going to watch it. "Um, the news 's on." Really, the only reason he liked it was because his dad would always get him to watch it with him every night when he was younger. He grew to like it, being sad when they got a new anchorman. It wasn't like it had a continuous plot, it was just the news, so he didn't mind missing it if he was with Tino.

A light bulb went off in Tino's head. For Berwald to vocalize something, and to show enough interest in it to even check the time for it, it must be important to him, even just a little bit. "Wanna watch it?" he asked with a smile.

Shrugging, Berwald was saying "Doesn't matter." even as Tino was practically jumping to the living room and looking for the remote control. Well, if he was really alright with watching the news... Most kids their age hated the news. But, either way he followed him into the living room and sat down on the couch, making sure there was more than enough room for Tino.

A feat which, as it turned out, was completely unnecessary, as Tino seemed to make it his priority to sit as close to Berwald as possible to an extent just short of cuddling. He wanted to respect the other's boundaries, not wanting to seem too clingy before Berwald was ready. He pointed to the television. "Is this the station you prefer?"

The tall Swede grunted in the positive, and started watching as they explained everything that had happened the day. As usual when he watched news, his whole consciousness was on the screen. On commercials he would turn to Tino (and they would usually kiss) but mostly his eyes kept glued to what was happening.

Tino had never really been interested in the news before; too many sad occurrences, not enough happy ones. But it made perfect sense to him that Berwald would; he was just the type to be in the know at all times. It was probably what kept him so grounded.

He slipped his hand into Berwald's maybe halfway through, knotting their fingers and finally giving in to his desire and leaned on Berwald, his head resting against a broad, firm shoulder.

Once it went again to commercial, Berwald realized how close the Finn was. He put his arm around his shoulders, since, in Tino's own words, they were in a 'relationship'. He really liked that word, and thought it described them perfectly. But then it was back to the program, and he stopped thinking.

When Tino finally became tired of hearing about all the icky things people were doing in the world, he rolled his head to the side and just examined Berwald. He smiled. The other was so engrossed that he probably wouldn't have noticed if Tino did something _really _embarrassing. Thoughts of that nature started filling Tino's head and soon he was blushing and shaking his head. D-definitely not tonight, but maybe someday, he told himself, willing his thoughts to cool themselves off.

He pulled Berwald's arm tighter around himself and nuzzled close with a contented sigh.

Soon, the program was over, so Berwald once again had his full consciousness on his new boyfriend. He handed him the remote, in case he wanted to watch anything. It was only eight o'clock, so it was still much too early for them to go to bed. He blushed slightly when he felt how close their bodies were, how warm Tino was against his side. He was always fairly warm, no matter the temperature. It was nice, he could just be like his hot water bottle.

A light, happy feeling bubbled within the Finn. Tino smiled at Berwald, setting the remote aside, the noise of the television fading to the background as he pulled Berwald down for a kiss. "I'm really happy," he confessed when they pulled apart for a breath, watching his thumb idly stroke Berwald's cheek. "Now I finally know something about you."

Head tilted in curiosity, he looked down at Tino, wondering what he meant. He knew that he watched the news? Well that wasn't much. He knew other things too, like that he can cook, and that he thought really embarrassing things that he didn't want anyone to find out. But then they were kissing again, so he stopped thinking about it, since it didn't matter. He ran his fingers through Tino's fine hair, wondering how he kept it so smooth.

Tino kissed and let himself be kissed until he realized that it was going to escalate into something way more intimate if they kept it up like that. So with some difficulty, he forced himself to disentangle himself from Berwald's arms and jumped up, cheeks red and hair all askew.

"D-did you want to shower tonight?" he asked, trying to regain his composure.

Pausing for a second, the taller of the two nodded and followed Tino to the bathroom. Once inside he took off all his clothes, looking at his chest. He had cut down his work out so he would have more time to study, and it showed. Maybe now that he didn't have any tests he could go back to what he was used to, since he didn't want his body to go to mush.

The warm water ran down his arms, and Berwald let out a small moan. He loved washing off all the grim from the day. Giving a small blush, he looked down to his manhood. After everything that had happened today, it would be really nice to touch himself, and maybe then he wouldn't wake up with an embarrassing morning wood. But, this was Tino's house, and it just seemed wrong to do something so dirty here. He would wait till he got home for that.

All cleaned up, the Swede stepped out of the shower and started drying himself off. He hated putting on dirty clothes after he had a shower, but figured there was nothing else he could do. However, when he picked them up, he realized that all his clothes had gotten wet, because of a layer of water that had gotten out of the shower and spilled on the floor. Oh, this couldn't be good...

Tino poked his head out of his parents' room when he heard the bathroom door open. He gave a very loud exaggerated sigh, a bundle in his arms. "I still don't see why you didn't use my bathroom even though it's totally fi..."

Oh.

Berwald (half naked, dripping, chiseled, gorgeous Berwald) was looking at him expectantly, and he tried to swallow though his mouth was completely dry. "Totally fine," he finished, holding out his father's clothes in lieu of an explanation.

Blushing slightly, Berwald held out one of his hands, the other had a firm grip on the towel to keep it in place. "M' clothes got wet." He explained as he quickly took the clothes with a small thanks and went to change into it. Even though they were pretty much dating, they had only started going out today, and he really hadn't needed that experience. Of course, if the situation was reversed and it was Tino dripping wet with only a towel... well then at least one of his fantasies would have come true.

Tino was flustered to say the least. He went back to his room and paced around for a bit before heading back to the bathroom and nearly running into Berwald due to his lack of focus. "Oh," he said, touching Berwald's arm as if to keep both of them in check, "sorry about that."

Putting his own hand on his shoulder, Berwald looked down at him and gave a small smile. Then he kissed the top of his head, since he was the perfect height for it. The pajamas didn't fit him perfectly, but they were better than his wet clothes and much better than that towel. "Bed?"

He smiled, a combination of a bubbly happiness at Berwald's affectionate gesture and the humor of the unbefitting pajamas of his father on Berwald's body. The Swede was way too cute for his own good. "Um..." He shifted from one foot to the other, clearing his throat. "Where would you like to sleep?"

Berwald had been hoping that he wouldn't have to make that decision. On one hand, he would really like sleeping with Tino, but on the other, what if Tino didn't want to sleep with him and he overstepped his boundaries? Or he might even snore, and that wouldn't be good if he was sleeping with him. So, instead, he gave his usual response. A shrug and watched for the response.

Tino groaned at his indecisiveness and playfully punched his shoulder. "I knew you were going to do that. Well, you can choose wherever you'd like, though sleeping in my parents' room would be a little odd." He counted on his fingers. "There's the couch, the guest room, m-my room..." Tino blushed, laughing. "Wherever you feel the most comfortable. Even the bathtub's fine!"

"Um... your..." Berwald waited for the response to that. If Tino seemed happy, he would say his bed, but if he seemed afraid, he could backtrack and say 'your couch'. It looked like there was just a small spark of excitement in his eyes, so the large Swede felt comfortable in finishing, "your room." Well, it was good they both seemed to want to sleep together. And why not? Technically, they were dating now.

The Finn felt all of the relief and anxiety his little body could amass at that. On one hand, he really really wanted to sleep with Berwald (definitely only because he looked super strong and Tino was a kind of afraid of being alone in the dark, not because it might turn into something more, no, certainly not), and on the other, it, uh... might turn into something more. And he wasn't even intoxicated! Berwald was just too attackable!

Even so, he was pulling Berwald into his bedroom awfully fast... b-better calm down, or else he might freak the Swede out...

Soon they were in Tino's room, and Berwald remembered it from just a few hours ago, even though it seemed like so much longer. It was a good thing he had a rather big bed, or else there wouldn't be room for both of them. The Finn crawled in first, and he followed soon after. It was a comfortable bed, even if he didn't notice much, trying to take up the least amount of space as possible. And he would have to sleep on his side so he didn't snore, and face outwards so Tino wouldn't smell his morning breath when they woke up... Oh god, how did people sleep together on such a regular basis? Berwald was starting to regret his decision, since he was so worried he would do something wrong.

When the lights were out, Tino noticed right away that he was practically inching off the bed. Judging from the reaction he got when he tried to do all the dishes, he surmised that Berwald probably wouldn't listen to him if he simply asked him to come closer, so with a little thought, the Finn let out a little noise. "Be?" he whispered into the dark, his voice trembling a little. "It's kind of cold... c-could you maybe come closer?"

Well, if he was cold... How could Berwald say no? Even if it felt like it was a hundred degrees under the blanket... and Tino always seemed to be warm. But either way, he turned over and wrapped his arms around him... to warm him up. And pulled their bodies closer to warm them up. And that is all there was to it. Besides, he was still on his side, so he shouldn't snore.

Tino snuggled against Berwald, mourning the wide expanse of empty bed he still had. Wrapping his arms around the other, he asked in the most innocent tone he possessed, "You're so close to the edge. Aren't you afraid that maybe we'll fall off?"

Thinking about it, he moved the both of them to the middle. He wouldn't want Tino falling off the bed, of course. Well, he would be there to cushion him, but he didn't want to fall either. This was much more comfortable, though. Tino seemed to fit perfectly into his arms.

Congratulating himself on a job well done, Tino let himself relax. It felt so nice to be held in the snug, warm cushion of his bed. Especially by someone as cuddly as Berwald was turning out to be. He smiled to himself, kissing the Swede's chin.

Blushing lightly, Berwald kissed him back. "'Night." He mumbled before closing his eyes and preparing to go to sleep, if that was even possibly while sleeping so close to another person.

* * *

Tino woke up far too early, as he was apt to do on a frequent occasion. Squinting blearily at the clock that read 4 AM, he groaned quietly, burrowing deeper into the warmth of his blanket.

Well. He would have if he had been able to move. As it were, it seemed that he had gotten his leg caught between the Swede's sometime in the night. His arms, too, were folded in between Berwald's body and his own. His hands rested comfortably on the other's (quite delightful) pectoral muscles. He lay there for a few moments, listening to the deep, lulling Berwald's occasional snore and wondered how he could possibly get back to sleep in this position.

Waking up to something squirming in his arms, Berwald half opened his eyes. He didn't see much without his glasses, but saw that Tino had his eyes open and he saw that it was still dark out. He loosened his grip on the boy somewhat, and let out a yawn. "G' back t' sleep." He mumbled before closing his eyes again.

His sudden voice in the dark silence made Tino's heart jump. He clutched at the fabric over his chest, willing the rapid pace to go down. And then, when the realization of what had just occurred hit, his face went hot. Had Berwald just given him a command? Tino buried his warm face into the other's chest, taking a deep breath through his nose.

He couldn't imagine an awake and lucid Berwald telling him to do something. So if sleepiness made him lose those inhibitions, maybe Tino should tire him out more often.

And with that, he knew that there was absolutely no way he'd be able to fall back asleep.


	4. Two in the Bush

When Berwald awoke the second time, Tino was sitting on the end of the bed, putting his shirt on. His lean muscles moved under his skin as he lifted his arms up and let the fabric slip over his torso. Well, if he hadn't already had a morning wood, that would have done the job. To get it to go back down before it was noticed, he tried thinking of horribly disgusting things; the naked elderly, slaughtered whales. Eventually it did go away.

Sitting up himself, he put his hand on Tino's shoulder. "Mornin'"

Tino turned to him with a wide, tired smile. "Good morning, Be." He stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes. His bare toes curled against the cold hardwood floor and he wondered idly how he had managed to peel them off in his sleep. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhm." Even better than normal, not considering the barely-remembered wake up early in the morning. He had been worrying he wouldn't be able to get to sleep with being so concerned about doing something wrong, but with Tino so close to him, he hadn't been able to help it as sleep consumed him.

Tino's grin softened. "I'm glad," he said cheerfully, nearly leaning in to kiss Berwald before he stopped himself. "Er." He stood. "I'm going to go brush my teeth." And then he would definitely give him a good morning kiss.

Speaking of that, he needed to brush his teeth as well. He could just use some toothpaste and his finger, since he didn't have his toothbrush with him. And he definitely was not going to use Tino's, no matter how long they had been kissing last night. So Berwald followed him into the bathroom, and they both set about brushing their teeth.

Tino rummaged through the cabinet under his sink, procuring a brand new toothbrush, still in its package. "I keep an extra just in case," he said with a smile, squirting red cinnamon-flavored toothpaste onto his wet brush.

Thanking him, he started brushing his teeth as well. This made his teeth feel much better than his finger would have, since this actually cleaned them instead of just taking away the bad breath.

Once they spit, they both smiled and leaned in to kiss. Once again he had a vision of them as a married couple, waking up together.

Somehow, this moment gave it a little more substance.

Tino laughed breezily, and gave a playful lick to Berwald's lips. "Mmm, minty," he teased. With a few more kisses thrown in to make the morning all the better, Tino finally pulled away and smoothed Berwald's hair, which seemed to have no particular direction. "What would you like for breakfast?"

Knowing that he would be making it, Berwald shrugged. "What d'you want?" Maybe they could have pancakes, if they had stuff to make them with. Or really he could make almost anything, as long as they had the supplies for it.

But Tino wasn't falling for that. He thought about it for a moment and took Berwald by the hand, pulling him down the stairs and into the kitchen and pushing him insistently into a chair. He smiled at the other, kissing him briefly. "My turn," he said cheerfully, taking his mother's apron from a drawer and tying it around his slim waist. He dug around in the pantry, pulling out a container of rolled oats for porridge. "Don't worry," he said, looking over his shoulder with a wink. "This is a standard breakfast in a Finnish household. If there's one thing I can make well, it's _puuro_."

He would have put up a fight, if Tino didn't look so cute in that apron. Berwald couldn't keep his eyes off him, since it was pretty much exactly like his fantasy. Well, other than the fact that they were both still wearing clothes.

It seemed like Tino knew what he was doing, so Berwald didn't mind. This was more like husband and wife, anyway, so it was nice.

And Tino did know. Making a decent bowl of porridge was the one culinary skill he could boast, and he went about it with the diligence and dedication any good cook would possess. (It didn't hurt that his intentions never really went farther than impressing Berwald, anyway.) So he glanced over his shoulder, wondering if the look in Berwald's eyes as he watched him was one of apprehension.

The Swede made to stand at the table, watching his pseudo wife. "Need help?" He asked, wanting to know if he could do something. He didn't like sitting and not doing anything at all.

The Finn reacted in a fashion that was not un-ninjalike and wielded his spoon at Berwald with finesse. "You." The spoon was aimed toward the chair. "Stay in your seat. Or else." He rolled two scoops of butter onto the top and grabbed the raspberry jam from the refrigerator, strolling over to the other, feeling quite impressed with himself. "There you are." Handing him a spoon, he plopped down in his own seat. "Enjoy!"

Obediently staying seated, the Swede started on the food. "Th'nks." It tasted as good as it smelt, he found. Just the right texture, not too runny and not too gummy. At least for the one thing Tino could cook, he could do it well. He felt the urge to get them both glasses of milk, but he had been told to stay in his chair, so that is what he did.

Tino watched Berwald's reaction, and since it didn't seem to be a bad one, he chalked it up to a success. Giving into a giddy urge, he leaned over the side of the table and kissed his cheek. "Would you like something to drink?"

At that, Berwald stood up quickly. "I'll get 't." Before Tino could say anything, he had two cups and was already getting the milk out. He liked doing something, instead of just sitting. So he put the two glasses on the table, and continued eating the scrumptious porridge.

Tino shouldn't have been surprised at the sheer speed that the large man was capable of, but he was. Well, perhaps not 'surprised'... but rather 'amused'. He took a sip of the milk and slowly sat back down. "You never cease to amaze me," he commented offhandedly, smiling a little into his cup.

Not quite sure what he was talking about, Berwald continued eating until his bowl was empty. Tino was the amazing one, because it seemed almost impossible that someone so cute could exist. But he was right in front of him, and had agreed to go out with him, the strangely tall kid that never spoke to anyone.

The Finn stood after he had finished and untied the apron, folding it and dropping it in its drawer before turning to Berwald, smiling widely. "Okay! What should we do today?" He held a hand up. "And I don't want to hear, _'Wh'te'er y' want'_," he said, mimicking Berwald's mumble.

"Dishes," he said as he already started moving towards the sink. They couldn't just leave them. They would get hard, and it would be more difficult to clean them off after, and it just looked better if the dishes were clean. Besides, Tino had cooked, so that meant that he should do the dishes, and share the work.

Tino puffed up his cheeks and lightly punched Berwald's shoulder. "No fair! That doesn't count! What else do you want to do?" He took a washed plate from Berwald's hand, rinsing and drying it. "It's a weekend. Surely there must be something you'd like to do..?"

Considering all the Swede usually did on weekends was study or read or clean the house, Berwald really didn't know what to say. Should they go on a date? But like what? In the romantic movies he'd seen, they would go to dinner, but he would much rather just eat at one of their homes. Or a romantic walk on the beach, but it was still rather cold. "M'vie?"

He thought about it for a moment, scratching his chin and accidentally smearing a few suds there. "Sure! Here, or did you want to go out?"

Shrugging, Berwald then cringed at the look Tino gave him. Well, apparently he would have to make a decision. "Uh, here?" It would be more comfortable, and they wouldn't be surrounded by people. He had once gone to a movie and a lady had talked to him throughout the whole thing.

"Ooh, all alone," the other replied before he could catch himself and blushed, looking away. "A-anyway, what kind of movies do you like? I like all of them, so you can't turn the question on me."

Great, now he had to think of a movie too? "Not r'mantic com'dy." He couldn't stand the occasional ones his mother made him sit through. Really, anything else was fine as long as it wasn't a romantic comedy.

Tino laughed at that, touching Berwald's arm. "Don't worry, I wouldn't force you to go through that." He dried the last dish and put it away, wiping his sopping hands on his pajama bottoms. "Anything else you definitely won't watch?"

Berwald wracked his brain for the movies that should be out on DVD. He never was one for keeping up with what everyone was watching, and he usually watched older movies, that were made in the eighties or nineties. Besides those, he couldn't think of any movies that Tino might like. "No cartoons?"

The Finn sniffed, thinking of his beloved Moomins. "Everyone is entitled to his opinion, I suppose." He went into the living room, opening the wide cupboard beneath the television and browsing the selection. "Is there any particular genre you _enjoy_?" he called over his shoulder.

Shrugging, the large student went over to the cupboard with him and sat down. He could watch many different genres of movies. But, the way Tino had said enjoy made him think of the movies he watched on his laptop when his parents were asleep. After all, his whole life all he had had was his hand and the internet.

His eyes followed Berwald and his gaze as closely as he could to pick out anything that made the other's eyes light up or wrinkle his brows, any sort of sign of displeasure or otherwise. They seemed to pause at something, though, and Tino tried to search it out. "Which one?"

It wasn't a particular movie he was looking at, just the horror section. That was one genre that he had never actually watched. Usually the movies he watched were just on TV or ones his parents had, so he never even thought of watching them. But there they were, a bunch of horror movies. So he pointed to the section.

"Do you like horror?" Tino perked up. "Mother is picky, so we only have the good ones... ooh, there's this one, and this and... well, if you didn't have anything else in mind... maybe we could have a marathon?" He turned hopeful eyes to Berwald, his lips turning upward in a smile.

"Sure." That way he wouldn't be giving the task of coming up with something else for them to do, since Tino seemed to love forcing him to make decisions. "Popc'rn?" He asked, already heading to the kitchen. After all, you needed popcorn if you were going to watch a movie marathon.

Laughter bubbled up in Tino's chest as he pulled Psycho out, always a good warm-up for any horror marathon. He settled himself on the plush sofa, but only after shutting the curtains and turning off the lights. Once Berwald had returned, he turned the television on. "Do you like Alfred Hitchcock?"

Another shrug as Berwald sat down. He never paid attention to who the director was. Or the names of the actors in the movie. It just never seemed like a piece of information he needed to have, so he only remembered the name of the movie.

Tino conked his head onto Berwald's shoulder as the old-timey horror music began to play. "I don't know what that _means_," he groaned.

Giving a small (very, very small) chuckle, Berwald wrapped an arm around Tino and pulled him a little closer. The movie started, so he didn't say anything and instead just watched. He liked movies, because he wasn't expected to talk. Most of the time.

It was enjoyable to Tino as well. Into the fourth movie that afternoon, once the popcorn stash had run dry, he felt Berwald's buttery fingers slip through his and he smiled a little goofily, tightening his grip.

During the fifth, though, when the sun was near to dipping its toes into the horizon, Tino stood and stretched. "Think we should get some real food for dinner before we keep going?"

Eyes wide from the nonstop horror he had just seen, Berwald stood and followed Tino into the kitchen, not wanting to be left alone. He quickly turned on all the lights he could find. He never knew movies could be so frightening! He found himself looking behind his back as he was wondering what they could have for dinner. "Sp'ghetti?" he suggested, seeing a box of it and remembering there were various things he could use to make a sauce.

Tino washed his hands in the kitchen sink, perking up at the suggestion. "Oooh, yes! Let me boil the noodles, though. It's the least I can do. If you want, you can take a shower while I do that much."

"No," Berwald said, going to the fridge. "I'll make th' sauce." It would probably take longer than the noodles anyway. And, after his shower last night, he was slightly afraid to have another one here. What if this time the towels got wet too? Then he wouldn't have anything to wear!

Tino blinked in surprise. No? Huh. So Berwald was capable of denying someone. For some reason, it made him awfully pleased. Pleased enough to maybe poke a little fun. "So are you implying that I can't properly make spaghetti sauce, or are you scared to go upstairs... _alone_?"

Unintentionally shivering, Berwald thought about it. Tino's shower was almost exactly like the one where the killer came up with a knife... But that wasn't why he wouldn't go upstairs, no, definitely not. After all, if he was upstairs, that meant Tino would be all alone downstairs. He couldn't let that happen!

The Finn didn't miss the shiver, however, and blinked. "So... it really is my cooking!" He felt the sudden urge to stamp his foot. "For the love of... you're messing with a man's pride here. Get up there and shower, mister! I've got this under control!"

Berwald was left gaping. How could it be Tino's cooking, if all he had tasted was his porridge? It was just that he didn't want him to have to do all the work. And... didn't want to leave him alone, of course. "No, I..." But then he sighed. "Ok." He turned around and went to the bathroom. He didn't want to argue with him, after all.

Harrumphing, Tino set about to boil some water in a pot, grumbling about how is cooking wasn't _that_ bad... right? _R-Right_, he assured himself, standing on his tiptoes to reach the pasta cabinet, and beginning preparations to make the dish with his weight in determination.

Upstairs in the shower, Berwald was thinking about how his wife was making supper, and not at all about someone opening up the shower curtain and saying, _'Heeeeere's Jonny!'_ Well, maybe he was a little. To try and get his mind off it, he tried thinking about Tino. In an apron. Only an apron. And possibly on a bed, with his legs open and pleading with him to touch him. The large man had found that his hand had gone to his new erection.

His thoughts on that from last night came back, and he once again refused to dirty this place in his mind. Instead, Berwald turned up the cold water. That made it go away very quickly.

While upstairs Berwald calmed a storm, another was brewing below. Tino yelped when the boiling pot of noodles bubbled over and hastily turned the heat down, flinching when a hot burst of red sauce stung the tender flesh of his wrist. But the water still had twelve minutes to boil still, and he was just _sure_ that he'd put the sauce on the lowest possible temperature just to warm it (and hmm, maybe an entire tablespoon of oregano was a little too much...? No, no, the smell definitely was _supposed_ to be overpowering, he was just sure of it...)

Gnawing on his lower lip, Tino fretted from one side to the other, nearly forgetting all about the half-sliced carrot on the cutting board to his left.

Soon Berwald was done with his shower, and got dressed quickly. This time he had put his clothes up on the counter, so they didn't get wet. He went downstairs, and saw Tino about to reach over a very hot looking pot of water. As fast as lightening, he was over there and pulling him away so he wouldn't burn himself, and he reached around the pot to turn it down and blew on the water so it would stop boiling over. That crisis averted, he turned back to Tino and looked at him sternly.

"Arm." He commanded. Once Tino lifted his arm, Berwald examined it and saw that there was indeed a red burn on his wrist. He pulled him over to the sink, and put it under the water, starting with temped water and turning it colder to not irritate the skin. He felt bad, his wife had gotten hurt because he wasn't there. Sure, it wasn't a crazy man with a knife that hurt him, but it was still bad.

Knowing that Berwald's actions were out of concern for him, Tino's tone was soothing. "It's all right, Be; I'm fine," he said in an even voice, watching the large hands cradle his wrist like something precious. He blushed, glancing up at Berwald's face, blanching at how frightening his expression was. "W-what's with that look?"

Seeing that Tino looked a little frightened, Berwald tried his best to let his brow relax. Then he kissed the Finn on the cheek and let his wrist go. "Keep 't there," he instructed before going to the stove and testing the noodles, and the sauce. He deemed the noodles needing a few more minutes, and the sauce savable, before setting about trying to take some of the oregano taste out of it.

It left Tino in an embarrassed mass leaning against the sink. He sulked for a moment, watching Berwald perfect the sauce, and when that finally got to be too depressing, he looked at the steady stream of cool water rushing over his wrist.

He turned it off after a short moment and let it drip before shaking his hand and creeping up beside Berwald to finish cutting the carrots.

Wearily watching to make sure Tino didn't injure himself further with the knife, Berwald continued with the task of finishing it up. Soon he drained the spaghetti, and waited for the cut carrots to be added to the sauce before tasting it. It was pretty good, so he turned off the burner and indicated it was done.

Tino hastily grabbed the dishes to set the table with and halfway back he paused, looking up at Berwald. The atmosphere was uncomfortably tense and he didn't like it one bit. His eyes drifted down, but he spoke up. "Would you rather eat while watching another movie?"

"K." Berwald took his dish into the living room and sat down beside Tino. He could tell that he was a little sad, but not entirely sure why, so before the next movie began, he wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close for a kiss. "Th'nks."

Relief soaked through Tino's pores and he visibly relaxed, his body molding against Berwald's like a natural thing. "That's my line," he answered softly, fumbling with the remote. Dark was falling, and he wanted to at least get one episode of the Twilight Zone in before taking a shower.

After an hour, both their plates were empty, and Berwald felt like something was creeping up his back. The Twilight Zone, he found, didn't frighten him like the others. No, it liked taking its time, once you really started thinking about it is when you looked behind your back, and you felt like the whole world is a lie. Tino said he was going to have a shower, and Berwald hardly listened, too worried about what would really happen if the world was thrown off its orbit and sent farther from the sun.

Once Tino had returned, his hair still a little damp, he found Berwald absolutely void of fear. Rather, he looked like he was contemplating something, and that was never a good thing when one was watching something as subtly twisted as the Twilight Zone.

So when the DVD had played through all of its episodes, he glanced at the clock. "Ooh, a new episode of this one ghost show is on." He changed it to the Discovery channel, grinning to himself. "It's actually pretty silly. You might enjoy it."

The Swede found that he really didn't enjoy it. If he thought the movies were bad, this one was the worst of all! That was because it was real life people looking for ghosts. It wasn't a movie or anything, which made it really scary! Berwald found himself clutching Tino as a chair moved on screen, completely by itself!

Thinking that Berwald was joking, Tino only laughed, patting his thick forearm. "I know, right? Oooh, scary!" The constricting grip Berwald had on him hadn't yet clued him in on the Swede's genuine fright.

No, no he couldn't take it any longer! Berwald grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. How could anyone like that show? It was horrifying! If there were real haunted houses out there, then what was it to say that his house wasn't haunted? Or perhaps this one? Every single creak he had ever heard from his childhood to now came to mind, and he started worrying that there was a ghost in his house. What had happened to the old lady who owned it before them?

"Aww," Tino said when the television powered off. He turned to Berwald, the culprit, who had the remote in his hand. "What'd you do that for? I only counted three consecutive _'dude_!'s." Needing to distract him so that he wouldn't want the television turned on again, Berwald pressed forward and found Tino's lips with his own. A desperate kiss followed, trying his best to distract him.

Tino wasn't complaining. Wondering idly if silly ghost shows were a turn on, he made a mental note to buy the first season to watch with Berwald. And then he was making a sound effort to kiss back, sliding his fingers through Berwald's short, choppy hair, tasting the cinnamint of his toothpaste in the other's mouth.

Moving so he was straddling Tino, Berwald put his hands on each side of his head on the couch. This was much more comfortable for both of them, so they wouldn't strain their necks. He let his tongue explore the foreign mouth, extremely interested in how it seemed so much smaller than his own.

Excited at the new position, Tino shifted a socked foot up and down Berwald's calf slowly, lazily, and stroked the probing tongue with his own, idly wondering if the hand crawling up his too-large t-shirt had any particular goals in mind.

Hardly even realizing that one of his hands had naturally found its way up Tino's shirt, the Swede decided to do something with it. Remembering how much he had liked his nipple being played with, he went for that, enjoying the reaction he got. It made him happy when his wife seemed to be enjoying it. Tino gasped and groaned, his body twisting under Berwald's. For a one-time thing, it was amazing how well the other knew his body. Restlessly, the Finn lifted a leg, his thigh brushing between Berwald's legs. His eyes popped open and he looked into the other's eyes, his lips parted in surprise. Experimentally, he lifted his hips, rubbing his thigh farther up between Berwald's, his face going hot and red nearly instantly.

Breath coming in harsh gasps, Berwald struggled to stay upright. He had never before felt someone so close to his crotch, and the anticipation sent electric jolts running up and down his erection. He once again kissed Tino, because that was something that he knew, that he had been doing since yesterday. Not that he didn't want to go further, he just didn't know how. Even if he did, he wouldn't for fear of his partner possibly not wanting to go further.

It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did; Tino found the kisses to be sweet and endearing despite their urgency. But Berwald had a... well, a problem, and if it wasn't Tino's duty to help him take care of it, well, what was? So he gently pushed against Berwald's chest to pull back and smiled, his hands drifting down the rocky abdomen, his firm hipbones, all the way to the elastic waistband of the pajama bottoms.

Leaning up, he kissed Berwald's lower lip. "Want me to...?" he asked in a breath, his eyes hazy.

Closing his eyes, the bigger of the two tried to control his breathing. Was Tino really just asking him if he could... could... Oh god. But he forced himself to actually say something, so he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. "Only... if I c'n... t' you."

Tino shivered, his breath hot on Berwald's cheek. "I-I'm all yours," he murmured, his trembling fingers slipping beneath the waistband, sliding over the hot, hard heat below his boxers. Tino's fingers mapped it out over the protective layer of cotton and shuddered, wondering how that could have possibly fit inside him. He found the rising tip and circled it, greedy hands finally plunging beneath the last layer for a handful of Berwald.

Groaning, Berwald's head fell to his boyfriend's shoulder. It felt so different from his own hand, so he was soon lost. Not too far gone, however, to forget to move his own hand to Tino's crotch. He felt that he wasn't completely hard yet, but soon his fondling through his pants rewarded him with a pulsing heat beneath his fingers. The hand on his own erection started moving, so in response he pushed his fingers into Tino's pants. If a hand job from someone else felt this good, he would have offered one to his 'wife' earlier!

Pants fell in bursts from Tino's lips and he stroked Berwald with a sloppy, unfocused sort of determination, sizing the other up. Later, when he thought back on it, he might have discovered a grudging envy where size was concerned, but in that moment, keeping his hand occupied and lifting his hips upward into the cradle of Berwald's palm was all his body knew to do. "Be," he breathed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the Swede's jaw. "Be, don't stop."

Berwald could tell that he wasn't going to last very long. He was a virgin after all! But no matter, he would still make sure that the Finn climaxed as well. He was moving his hand, glad that neither of them had changed out of their pajamas. When he reached the base, he stuck out two fingers so he could stroke Tino's balls as well. He knew what felt good for him, so he tried to do the same, but he wasn't used to this angle.

To give Berwald more room to feel, he wriggled his legs out from in between the Swede's, looping one over Berwald's lower back and sufficiently spreading his legs. On the verge of coming, he retracted his hand from the massive length and took Berwald's hand from his own, lifting his hips _up_.

A note of pure pleasure trembling in his throat resonated through his being and he moved again, encouraging Berwald to do the same.

Rutting against the boy under him, Berwald discovered that this felt equally as good. Within a few seconds, he could feel himself on the edge, and pulled Tino closer. Closing his eyes, he felt pressure he hadn't even realized was there release, and heat exploded between them.

The dark, hot groan that Berwald gave as he came sent a shudder down Tino's spine, and, really, it was too much. He gave a less-than-manly cry as the release of all the delicious tension shook through his body in waves, crashing against and with Berwald.

Panting, he fell back against the sofa, letting out a breathy laugh as the Swede fell on top of him, completely boneless. "Oh, Be..."

He didn't really want to get up, but Berwald figured that they needed to clean up. The realization of what they had just done dawned on him, and he blushed. They had just done... _that_, in the living room, on the couch, and he wasn't even wearing his own pants! Pushing himself up, he grunted with the effort. There was a box of tissues nearby, so he grabbed it and took a bunch before handing the box to Tino.

"Did y' like it?" He asked, not being able to look Tino in the eye after what they had just done.

Not even close to rushing like the other, Tino luxuriated in the afterglow, stretching his arms around his head and arching his body, smiling. "Don't be so modest," he said slowly, reaching up to remove the glasses Berwald had left on, laughing quietly and setting the box aside. "Come here."

Still kind of wanting to clean up, but not wanting to go against what Tino wanted, Berwald went closer and kissed him, slowly this time. He felt the arms circling around his neck, and, he noticed with a blush, could smell their come. But, damn his teenage body, he could also feel himself start to slowly get hard again.

Pressed so close, the change did not go unnoticed by Tino, and he laughed, ears pinkening. He leaned up, his lips near to Berwald's ear. "Would you," the Finn said, laughter lacing his tone, "be more comfortable in my room?"

Berwald sighed and pressed their foreheads together, nodding. Out in the living room just felt too open for something so private. So, grabbing the box of tissues, he stood up and pulled Tino with him, but let the Finn lead the way.

Walking bow-legged up the stairs, Tino cringed. "Eww. It's squishy," he complained, trying to hop the stairs without moving his legs too much. The cooling fluid between his thighs was just too uncomfortable. Once in his bedroom, he shucked his pants and underwear, going for something clean and dry in his drawers.

At the quick display of skin, Berwald found his eyes practically attached to the long legs, and higher. That definitely wasn't doing anything to help keep his erection down. Before Tino put something else on, however, he thrust the box of tissue at him. No need to go making something else dirty.

Tino took it, his grin unfading. "Now? Should I?" He glanced down pointedly at the rather sizable bulge in the Swede's flannel pajama pants. "Unless you don't have anything else in mind.."

"Uh, t's fine." He should be able to control his body more than this! Berwald tried to make it go down, but Tino was still standing there with no pants and now he was wiping himself with the same hand that he had been using to touch Berwald just a few minutes ago! Stupid traitorous body. But Tino didn't seem to mind and took Berwald by the arm, pushing him down into the bed and running out to the hall just to turn out the remaining lights in the house before slipping back into his room, anticipation burning through him, his every nerve ending and manhood slowly rising to attention.

Berwald's stare made him blush, so he quickly turned out his bedside lamp and crept into bed, his eyes gradually adjusting to the semi-dark of the moonlit room.

Kind of confused, Berwald tried to hide what he was thinking. Were they going to sleep now? But he was still wearing the wet pants. A shower would have been nice, but even a change of pants would be better than nothing. At least he had gotten to quickly wipe away most of it when Tino had gone to turn all the lights off. He could faintly see his eyes glinting in the dark, looking at him. He wished he could see the violet colour, but it was impossible in this light.

As the seconds stretched on maddeningly slow, Tino began to wonder if he had miscalculated Berwald's intentions. He was so difficult to read! Taking a deep breath and chiding himself not to get frustrated, Tino spoke up into the quiet darkness.

"What are you thinking?"

"That I w'nt t'see you." He reached over and turned the table light on. If they weren't going to sleep, then he didn't want to have to fumble around in the dark. But then, he started wondering that if they weren't going to sleep, then what were they doing in the bed? And with that thought, a slow blush started running across his cheeks. Alright, so maybe his fantasies could be perverted at times, but when it came to the real world he had no idea what to do. Like now, he was completely confused.

Ah. Berwald's lost look was something Tino could most definitely decipher. He gave a smile of reassurance (he hoped) and crawled forward, sitting on his knees before Berwald. "What else?"

It occurred to the Swede that the questions would probably keep coming unless he stopped them all together. So he leaned forward and pressed their lips together, hand going behind Tino's head to run his fingers through the silky locks.

Though Tino recognized this to be a method of getting him quiet, he couldn't say he really minded, and went along, tipping his head to attain a preferable depth inside Berwald's mouth. After a few moments of the delicious action, the Finn pulled away with a wet smack and fell back against the pillows, red faced and smiling. "Aren't you going to answer my question?"

Upset that there was another question, Berwald hovered above Tino. "N't really." He didn't want Tino to know what he was thinking. Before he could reply, he was kissing him again, trying to make him forget. The way this was going, he was not getting to sleep without something being done about his problem. Maybe he could sneak off to the bathroom?

Berwald's constant evasion made him want to burst out into amused laughter and tear out his hair in frustration all at once. He found that all of the Swede's persistence made it rather difficult to express these two warring emotions verbally.

Which, in turn, gave him an idea.

At the pace of molasses, his fingers found the buttons of Berwald's shirt and began plucking them out of their holes one by one, and once that task was completed, his fingertips traced the wide expanse of pectoral muscles presented to him so nicely. They danced down what must have been a six-pack and over the flannel pants, coming to rest with a butterfly's intensity over Berwald's straining erection. He easily found the tip and circled it delicately. "Do you want this?" he whispered, finally managing to pull away when Berwald gasped for breath.

Eyes fluttering shut, Berwald balled his hands into fists. "Y-yes." This just wasn't playing fair. How was he supposed to say no to that? He was angry with his own body for being so needy, after having just climaxed ten minutes ago. But then he decided that he shouldn't be the only one like this. Balancing on one hand, he reached down to Tino's crotch, which was still bare. Instead of going for his cock, he instead started fondling his balls. They should at least do something different this time.

"_Ah_!"

Tino clapped a free hand over his mouth, eyes wide. His hips lifted automatically to Berwald's touch, and that just wouldn't do. Fighting the urge to just lay back and let the other work his magic, Tino snagged a leg around Berwald's hip and, using the advantage of surprise, flipped him over onto his back. Tino swung himself on top, his thighs straddling Berwald's hard stomach. The Finn tried to give Berwald an intimidating look from above.

"You're making it very difficult for me to seduce you into talking," he said sulkily, keeping a firm grip on Berwald's wrist.

So that was his plan. Berwald, just to be difficult, bit his lips so he could make it obvious that he wasn't planning on talking. Not that he ever planned on talking. But this position made it really easy to slid his free hand up Tino's stomach and take his shirt off. Now he was completely naked, and it looked like he was made to be that way. If this was a competition, he figured he would rub his nipples, since they seemed so sensitive.

Tino flinched, his hips jerking. "No, no fair!" he complained, giving a short cry when Berwald flicked - _flicked_! - the hard, pink nub. His erection was leaking against his own stomach, bobbing down nearly to Berwald's abdomen for every jerk his body gave.

Still keeping his mouth closed, Berwald pinched one nipple, and then pinched it harder. But there was something that required more attention, so he let one bud go and went down to the weeping cock. Instead of stroking it, he touched the head and moved the precome around with his thumb.

That was almost too much. Tino's thighs trembled and he planted his palms against Berwald's chest to keep himself upright, groaning and pushing into Berwald's palm. He bit the inside of his cheek, his motive faint and foggy at this point.

"Nngh... Be..." Pushing himself back, he spread his legs wide and moved himself to sit directly behind Berwald's own straining problem. He peeled back the pajama bottoms and lifted his hips, rubbing his need against the Swede's.

Taking his hand, Berwald started stroking both their cocks at the same time. It was fairly easy with his large hand, and it felt great to not only have his hand, but having both their shafts hard and right next to each other, with no material between them. Reaching his free hand up, he pulled Tino down so they could kiss, twirling their tongues together. He started rocking his hips in time with his hand, and was happy when he felt Tino do the same.

Such a good thing couldn't have lasted forever, though, and Tino felt himself nearing completion with all the swiftness of an adolescent boy. He panted hot, moist breath against Berwald's lips and whimpered. "I'm.. Be... I can't..."

It shot through him for the second time that night and he cried, shuddering from the intensity.

Being pushed forward by Tino's sexy sounds, the Swede couldn't help but succumbing as well. In seconds, he squeezed his eyes shut and felt the unbearable heat go through his cock, mixing with the come already on his chest. They panted, the smaller of the two falling onto him. He didn't mind, however, as he wrapped his arm around the Finn. They were both sweaty, but it didn't seem to matter much to either. Certainly not to Tino. He waited patiently for his labored breathing to return to normal, spreading his fingers out over Berwald's chest and idly kissing his collar bone. "And to think, I thought you were shy," he said, his voice low and honeyed with contentment. "You're just stubborn."

"Mm." Berwald hummed, wanting to go to sleep. He wasn't used to climaxing twice in one day, so this had tired him out. If they could just sleep like this, so close to each other, it would be great.

Smiling to himself, Tino yawned widely and groped around for a cover with one hand, reaching for the lamp with the other. When the room was sufficiently dark, and the double-decker lovers were tucked in snugly, he finally relaxed.

"Tell me if I'm too heavy," he mumbled sleepily, nuzzling the crook of Berwald's neck comfortably before falling into a deep, pleasant slumber.

* * *

One more chapter left, homeskizzles! 8D


	5. All the Way

"But I don't wanna go get pop, I wanna stay here!" Mathias wined as he lay on the grass. They had gotten out of school and had all headed to park nearby. "Can't the freak get pop? He can carry more!" He just wanted to laze around here, possibly try and kiss Christian.

The Norwegian rolled his eyes. "Go get pop for everyone; you were the one who brought it up in the first place. Or else I will kick you in the nads so hard you won't be able to have sex for a month."

"Shit, fine, no need to get violent." Then he smiled and leaned closer to his boyfriend. "Leave that for the bedroom."

"U-um, I'll go with you," Tino chimed, standing and brushing the grass from his pants. He just knew that, if left to his own devices, Mathias would intentionally get something gross for Berwald. He smiled at his boyfriend of two months and waved him down. "No, no, you stay here. I can handle this." He patted his upper arms. "I am a man after all."

And, perhaps feeling pity for the Finn for volunteering to spend time alone with Mathias, Christian stood with a sigh. "It isn't wise to expose yourself to so much stupidity alone," he said, patting Tino on the shoulder and descending the small hill, ignoring the Dane who followed behind as loud and affectionately as a puppy.

That left Berwald with Freyr. They never really talked much, but at least it was better than Mathias or Christian. Over the past two months, Berwald had learned that if he was left with Mathias, he would eventually get into a fight. Well, at least, Mathias would try and punch him, and Berwald would hold him at arms' length. And he was afraid to be left alone with Christian. So the Icelandic boy wasn't that bad.

Freyr, on the same hand, appreciated his half-brother all the more for conditioning him to just accept silences, because it prepared him for the motherload of all noiselessness that was Berwald. Even so, after about ten minutes, even the pale boy was beginning to get unsettled. "What could be taking them so long?" he said, his brow furrowed. Not that he was expecting a response or anything.

Shrugging, Berwald looked the direction they had left. Well, Mathias was probably taking up the most time, stopping to attack Christian behind a tree or play with a passing dog. He didn't say anything of course, because the only one of his peers he spoke to was Tino, really. Occasionally he would have to say something to someone else, but he tended to avoid situations like that.

Freyr wouldn't have minded, though, if another seven minutes of silence hadn't stretched by at an agonizingly slow rate. He cleared his throat and folded his pale knees up toward his chest.

"So." The boy paused, searching for something to say. "So... you and Tino." If he noticed Berwald's subtle twitch of acknowledgment, he didn't say anything. "You guys doing it on a regular basis?"

Looking at him curiously, Berwald tilted his head. "Doing..." Then it clicked and he almost choked. "No. No. _No_." Sure, they had done some things, but not _that_ far. He wouldn't want to hurt him or anything, and Tino was just too precious to do something like... _that_. "We hav'n't." Why did Freyr think they would? They were dating, but it had only been two months. Surely that wasn't enough time.

Freyr, on the other hand, could not imagine a single thing that would surprise him more. He was sure his eyes must have been as wide as dinner plates, and he snapped his jaw back up.

"No?" The word in such a context felt so foreign. "What do you mean, no? That's impossible. Tino was drunk. There's no way it _didn't_ happen." He nearly gave Berwald's leg an awkward pat before realizing that neither of them were very touchy people, and the notion was crushed. "I mean... you don't have to lie to me... I've been there..."

Thinking back to that night, Berwald shook his head. "He fell 'sleep." Well, after he had pretty much forced him in the bed. But he would never have done that, taken advantage of him when he was drunk. He didn't really mind if Freyr had thought that, because he didn't matter all that much. As long as Tino didn't think he was a pervert that would have sex with him while he was drunk. They once again fell into silence.

"My mind is blown," Freyr murmured to himself after a moment and shook his head. Fortunately for the both of them, the missing trio could be spotted in the distance, slowly but surely making their way back. Freyr breathed a sigh of relief, not sure that Berwald didn't do the same.

"Why did you guys make me carry everything?" Mathias was asking. Well, really Tino had offered to carry some, but Christian had just dumped everything in his arms. If it wasn't a show of his love, the Dane was sure he would be angry.

Sighing, Christian resisted hitting him. He didn't want to risk the drinks being dropped. "Because you're an idiot and deserve it. Stop walking so slow."

Tino laughed awkwardly, his expression softening at the sight of Berwald in the not-so-distance. "Be!" he called, waving his arm in the air, his smile bright. He graciously took his and the Swede's drinks from Mathias' arms and walked a little quicker up the grassy hill.

Taking his drink, Berwald leaned into Tino when he sat down beside him. "Thn'ks." He hadn't really been thirsty, but he didn't mind. If he didn't finish his, he could always give the rest to the Finn.

Freyr took his drink as well, watching the happy couple. They sure acted like they had sex. And he had been pretty sure that Tino had faintly hinted to it a few times. If Tino noticed Freyr's looks, he paid them no mind, and contented himself just being near Berwald. He'd discovered early on in their relationship that, despite his looks and demeanor, the Swede was a hardcore cuddler. He absolutely relished in it, milking the fact for all it was worth. He enjoyed just about every aspect of their relationship, from their (surprisingly plentiful) similar interests, to the synchronicity they had begun to develop through expression; he was beginning to read Berwald like a pro, and there were times the Swede seemed like he was really, _really _close to opening up. (It was progress; Tino hoped to wrangle actual thoughts from him sometime in the future.) Not to mention the sheer amount of affection the taller was so prone to bestowing upon him. The random hugs, kisses to the back of his neck, tangled fingers; Tino didn't think he could ever tire of it.

The love for his blossoming relationship overflowed to the point of bursting if he didn't express it somehow, and so because of that, Eduard and Freyr were perhaps more privy to his private life than they would have liked to have been. But they didn't complain (to his face); they didn't have love lives of their own to shout about, anyway.

One particular afternoon in the dusty, quiet library found not Tino, but Freyr to be the one bursting at the seams to give news. In the reference section he moved in close to Tino, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"You told me that you and Berwald did it."

"Did what?" Tino murmured back, pulling on the spine of one book to remove it from the shelf.

Rolling his eyes, the pale teen pretended to be looking at books so that the mean librarian wouldn't get mad at him for crowding the place. It was too bad his Asian friend wasn't working today. "Had sex, of course. What else would I mean?" He had kept his mouth shut for almost a whole week, but he just had to know why he had been lied to, either by Tino or Berwald.

"We did," Tino replied, his brow furrowing. "I mean, I don't really remember it, but that was because I was drunk off my... wait, why are you bringing this up?"

"Because he said you haven't done it yet. He said all you did was sleep. What really happened? Come on, spill!" Wasn't he Tino's best friend? Well, fighting for that title with Eduard, but still! Freyr was not happy to be left in the dark about this.

The book promptly fell from Tino's hand.

"_What_?" he hissed, ignoring the frown shot their way by the librarian. "That can't be... that's just..." His words came out scrambled as he tried to organize his thoughts and finally giving up in a flustered mess. He picked up the book, shoved it back in its spot and dragged Freyr out of the library. "What do you mean? When did he talk to you?"

A little confused by this change in emotion, the smaller boy tried not to laugh at Tino's outburst. "Uh, last week when we all went to the park." Was he angry that Freyr had spoken to his boyfriend about sex? He was just lucky that he had gotten Berwald to talk at all! "Do you seriously not remember at all what happened that night?" Usually when he got really drunk, things got blurry, but he would definitely remember having sex with someone. Or… _not_ having sex with someone.

Confusion stirred inside of Tino's chest and he couldn't remove the puzzled frown from his face. "I don't, but... but somehow, I always manage to get someone into my pants when I'm drunk, and Be's such a perv at heart..." He nibbled on his thumbnail. "I can't believe Berwald wouldn't tell me..."

Still reeling from the fact that Tino had said that Berwald, the human wall, was a perv at heart, Freyr patted his friend on the back. "Well, you know him, he probably just really didn't want to talk to you. I mean, your boyfriend doesn't talk, like, at all." At least around the group. He may talk more to Tino, but that still would be hardly at all, wouldn't it?

Having been texted, (and spending a few minutes figuring out where the beeping was coming from) to meet Tino at the library, Berwald was surprised to find him outside of it talking to Freyr. But no matter, at least he had fulfilled the instructions of the text.

The Finn would have launched into a full-out rant if he hadn't noticed Freyr's eyes over his shoulder. He looked around, his confusion boiling across a line in his bloodstream that read 'anger'. Before he could call attention to himself, he promptly stormed over to the perplexed-looking Swede and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into a nearby dark, unoccupied classroom.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, locking the door from inside, not bothering to flip the light switch.

Not understanding the situation, Berwald tried to stall in answering since he had no clue what he was supposed to tell Tino. But the boy was glaring at him in the half-light, his features looking gray. "Uh, what?" He finally settled for asking, since he still didn't know what the problem was.

The Finn quelled the urge to stamp his foot and merely folded his arms over his chest, his jaw set. "I want you to tell me the truth. Did we have sex that night when I was drunk?"

Berwald felt his eyes going wide. Since when had this come up? And so close to when Freyr... The realization seemed to dawn on him, remembering that Tino had been talking to the pale boy just now. But wait, this meant that Tino thought they had had sex? "No..."

It felt to Tino like his heart had dropped into his stomach. "O-oh." He was so embarrassed. His ears burned uncomfortably, and for some reason, it was hard to swallow.

All this time he had been doing things with Berwald, thinking that it was okay because they had already done it. He had wondered why Berwald would never take him all the way, if they had gone through it all before, but now it made sense; Berwald must have felt terribly uncomfortable this whole time, and Tino had just ignored it because of his own assumptions. It was no wonder Berwald didn't ever seem to want to talk with him.

Did that mean that their relationship was... forced? Had he made Berwald feel obligated to stay with him? Maybe he had made up all the feelings in his head; what seemed to be an affectionate gesture to him was actually an obligatory motion to Berwald. "I... see. O-okay then." The knot in his throat began to build until it was difficult to breathe. "Never mind. My mistake. Sorry for dragging you in here like this."

He couldn't stay in the room for much longer, his mind blanking as terribly as it was, and so he blindly began to fumble with the doorknob to unlock it. His sweaty palms made it difficult to get a firm grasp, and tears of frustration began to burn the corners of his eyes.

Before he got the door open, Berwald's body caught up with his mind and he latched onto Tino so he couldn't leave. "S'rry." He wasn't really sure what he had done, but it had to be something. He didn't want his pseudo wife crying over something he had done, or said, or didn't say, or something. He reached around and held the door knob, making sure it wouldn't open. He didn't want Tino getting away when he was sad. "I'm s'rry," he repeated, trying to make things better.

Tino shook his head, wanting so badly just to wrap his arms around Berwald. "Stop, it's my fault. I was being presumptuous." He pressed the heel of his palm against his eye, willing the hot moisture there to evaporate completely. He tried to push the other back, breath trembling in his throat. "U-um, it's all right. My mistake." His lips turned up in a smile that he didn't feel. "You don't need to feel responsible for me anymore, Berwald." How silly, he thought. It had felt so good to finally feel wanted, even if the Swede had only been going through the motions.

And that was it. Pulling him even closer, Berwald kissed him deeply. He couldn't let Tino go thinking stupid things like that. The Swede mumbled something against his lips. His kiss was so heartbreakingly genuine that Tino's heart could not help but throb. It was too much. The floodgates opened and he hiccupped, lifting his hands to Berwald's face. "You don't need to force yourself to talk if you don't want to. You don't need to do those kinds of things."

He brought them away from the door and pushed Tino on one of the desks in the room. "No, I... I..." He tried to say it again, but his words got lost in his throat. Berwald reached up and wiped the tears away, trying again. "I uh..." What was so hard with saying it? Why was he having so much trouble? It was more trouble than it was normally for him to speak!

With a heartbeat of hummingbird wings, Tino's eyes widened, his lips parted. Anticipation and perhaps even fear made him tingle where Berwald touched. He didn't dare speak, his fingers clenching and unclenching with suppressed _want_ of the other, to touch and feel and make him feel the goodness that he knew when Berwald was there.

The Swede gave up trying to speak. He couldn't say most things normally, never mind what he was trying to. Instead he just wrapped his arms around Tino's torso inside his sweater.

Tino's cheeks were uncomfortably hot, and his chest was aching. He bit his lip to keep from letting out any undesirable noises, and whatever hope he might have felt sank so deep into his stomach that it must have drowned. A sickly sob rose from his throat and he pushed Berwald back. "I don't want this!"

His voice was too loud in the quiet room, too high for a composed boy, and his arms shook with the weak effort. His open mouth began vomiting the acidic truth that was stirring in his heart. "I don't want sex if that's all it is. It hurts too much."

Well was unexpected. Berwald tried calming him down, but that didn't seem to be working. "Tino... I... Love y'."

Finally he said it! Hopefully that would prove to him that the Swede wanted more than just a physical relationship. Or at least that was what he got from the rant he had heard, that was a little too loud for a school. Even if they were in an empty classroom.

"Eh?" Tino squeaked. Even before his confusion was not so strong. Fat tears rolled aimlessly down his cheeks and he hastily tried to wipe them away. "B-but... but you're... I thought you just felt responsible for me, because... well, isn't that why you don't like talking to me?"

"I talk t' you..." He was talking right now, wasn't he? He had thought Tino would have known that he showed things through his actions, and not words. But, once again, apparently he was just being stupid, thinking that someone else would understand him. But he did feel strongly, so Berwald wanted to prove it to him somehow.

Tino reached up, touching his face. "No you don't. Even now, you're keeping something from me." He wanted to turn away. "Your eyes tell me that you're hurting, but they won't tell me why." His fingers brushed pale strands from the Swede's forehead. "Actions are supposed to speak louder than words," he said, his breath hitching. "And they're meant to be read between the lines. But when I don't know what the lines are, of course I'm going to be messed up." Leaning up, he slid his arms about Berwald's neck. "I've seen you," he murmured near the Swede's ear, "when you watch the news or debates and you think I'm asleep. You say exactly what's on your mind to the TV screen."

The steady stream carving tear tracks down his cheeks had thinned to a mere trickle. Idly, Tino stroked the neatly trimmed hair at the back of Berwald's neck. "You have so many opinions and ideas; you're the farthest thing from thoughtless. But you still use tricks to stop me from talking when I ask questions, so of course I don't understand." Violet eyes, avoiding Berwald's for the most part, tentatively lifted. "Do you think I don't care what you have to think?"

Not knowing what to say, Berwald just looked at him. But, he figured that that was the problem. Why did relationships have to be so difficult? He looked to the floor, watching both their shoes. "S'... hard," he finally managed. How was he supposed to be able to speak to someone if his whole life was spent trying to avoid speaking to people? When he had first been learning English in Kindergarten, the other kids had laughed at his accent. It wasn't that he had made a decision to not talk; gradually, that was just what his shame had become. And now, here was someone who wanted to talk to him, but he just didn't know how.

Tino felt his heart pick up again, for a different reason. His hands curved at Berwald's neck, his thumbs stroking the gentle giant's cheeks. "I know," he said softly, nodding. "I know, Be. You're so sweet and good to me, and I know that because you understand difficulty, you'll know why it's so hard for me to let you make me happy and never know how to return the favor." He pulled Berwald down, pressing a warm, chaste kiss to his lips. "I care. I want to know what goes on in your head, because you really are smart and funny and... oh, don't give me that look, I've heard you argue with newscasters about the rising price of marmalade." Tino couldn't hide a tiny smile, color blossoming in his cheeks. "And... to be honest, I really... r-really like the sound of your voice."

Burying his face in Tino's shirt, the Swede tried his best to not mumble. "But... it's funny." He could still hear a hint of his Swedish accent, at least. Even if he was born in America, the first five years of his life were spent at home, so he only spoke Swedish. And he didn't want to bore Tino with what he thought, since most of it was pretty boring. Well, except his fantasies, but there was no way he was going to be telling those any time soon.

Tino ran his fingers up between Berwald's shoulder blades and through his hair, his lips curving skyward. "Not to me." He pressed a kiss to Berwald's ear. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but he could tell that it would be worth it. "When you speak, your voice is so deep and strong. Like the ocean. It's comforting." He gave a pout. "How could you think it's funny?"

Shrugging, he concentrated on the feel of the Finn's fingers in his hair. "S' what ever'one says," he muttered quietly. Berwald was a little sad when the fingers that had been working their way through his hair abruptly stopped.

"Who says?" Tino demanded, frowning. "Be, you can't let stupid people pick on you." The Finn pulled back onto the desk, sternly regarding Berwald. "Your voice is super sexy. Whoever 'everyone' is was probably just jealous and a little turned on, is all, and they couldn't admit it."

Once again looking to the floor, Berwald started to fiddle with the string on his hoodie. It obviously wasn't true, he just had a funny voice. He never really thought about it much, because he hardly ever got teased about it anymore. Hardly anyone heard his voice now, after all. So why did Tino want him to talk more?

Tino didn't miss the uncertainty in Berwald's eyes and coiled his arms tightly about the Swede, kissing his ear. "You know," he said lowly, quiet and slow, "your voice doesn't just have a calming effect. Sometimes it's quite the opposite." He popped one, and then two of the buttons on his uniform dress shirt open from the bottom, bringing one of Berwald's hands to rest on his stomach. "It's so deep, Be. It sends shivers down my spine just when you say things in your sleep." He didn't want Berwald to feel so self-conscious about his voice; little truths he might have rather kept to himself fell from his lips in an attempt to fix that. "You know that sometimes, when I'm alone, I imagine you talking to me while I touch myself." He let Berwald's hand go, nipping at the lobe of the Swede's ear. "Little words of encouragement, what you want to see."

Berwald was surprised by where this was going. Sure, he had once found a web site that was dedicated to school porn, but it was mostly with a student and a teacher; this was real life! But he found that he couldn't say no to Tino when he was like this. Well, he couldn't say no most of the time, but that was beside the point.

If what Tino was saying was true, then he should at least try talking, right? "Touch y'rself?" He asked quietly, unintentionally making his voice even deeper than normal. The image of Tino touching himself... well, it was actually one he had never thought to fantasize about.

A shudder moved through Tino like a bullet train, straight through his cock. He didn't catch himself moaning until too late, and promptly cut it off, blushing like mad. "M-mm-hmm," he answered, scrambling to regain his composure. This was for Berwald's self-esteem; it wasn't the time to get lost in the moment. "I think of you when I do. You talk me through it every time; even in my imagination, you've got a dirty mind." His stomach tingled under Berwald's hand, trembling with anticipation. "And sometimes, I dream of your voice alone, and I wake up," he flicked a button on Berwald's blazer free, "all," flick, "sticky."

Breath catching, the taller tried to picture it. But then, did he really have to picture it when Tino was right in front of him? Maybe... it would be alright to tell him what to do, if that is what he got off on. He lightly grabbed the hand that was working at his shirt, and looked him in the eye. "Take y'r shirt off." It wasn't really demanding, because he probably couldn't pull off demanding in a lifetime of trying, but he was still proud that he had said it at all. Letting the hand go, he took off his glasses and put them on a desk.

Tino must have been melting, because his insides had never been hotter. It is difficult to properly remove one's attire under extreme haste, and Tino was no exception. His hands shook, and if that annoying little voice in the back of his head didn't remind him that he had no extra clothes at school, he would have just yanked until all the buttons went flying.

He sat up, wriggling out of it when he realized that unbuttoning the darned thing was a losing game.

Looking down at him, Berwald gave a small nod. Yes, he quite liked this game. "Pants. Slowly." He thought that the shirt had been taken off much too hastily. But, he still got to see Tino like this, in the middle of a classroom. He glanced at the door, just making sure that it was still locked. He didn't want to have to leave this sight for a second if he had to lock it.

The Finn looked up at Berwald with an emotion that even he could not name. Holding Berwald's gaze, his fingers sought out his belt, unbuckling it and leaning back on his elbows, lifting his hips to shimmy out of the checkered slacks. That his own private fantasies were coming to fruition like this was almost too much, and his poor cock reached out toward Berwald, longing for his touch as much as the rest of Tino. But he sat back patiently, awaiting his next order.

Berwald couldn't take his eyes off the sight before him. No, this wasn't the first time he had seen Tino naked, but this was the first time that he was hard without any touching at all. After a moment he realized that they were both waiting for something, and that something was him. Well, now that he was naked... What could he order him to do? He couldn't just say touch yourself, that wasn't specific enough. "Touch... y'r nipples." They were already sticking out, possibly from the cold air, but most likely from how turned on Tino so obviously was.

Tino lifted his fingers, bypassing his chest completely to bring them to his mouth, licking them all over. He looked down, circling a nipple with his wet fingers until it was a pebble beneath his touch, shining in the dim sunlight. "Like this?" he breathed, rolling the other smoothly.

Groaning, the big student couldn't take it anymore and rushed forward, hands all over Tino's body. He could tell that he was still fingering his nipples, and that just made him want him more. Berwald pushed him farther up on the desk, kissing down his neck hurriedly, and a little sloppily. He felt thin, naked legs on either side of him, and pressed closer.

Tino moaned, his fingers tangling in Berwald's hair, his thigh muscles tightening around the Swede. "Berwald," he breathed, his back arching up off the desk. "Be, let's..." he was cut off by Berwald's lips and spent the next moment or so pleasantly giving in to his desires, but pulled back, all erratic breath and tussled hair. "Let's try something new, okay?"

"K." He said without hesitation. He had no idea what it was, but figured that it could just be like a hand job in the school, since they had never done that before. Or even a blow job, either would work pretty well, and they would enjoy both.

The shorter of the two smiled, fond laughter flying from the confines of his chest. "I could say the craziest thing and you'd do it without hesitation, wouldn't you?" he said, stroking Berwald's cheek. "Silly." Tino kissed his lover deeply, trailing his leg up the back of Berwald's thighs. He pulled back, gently pushing Berwald away. "I want you to watch this," he said reassuringly when he was given a puzzled frown.

He was told to watch and that is what he did. Berwald watched as Tino started sucking on his fingers, while looking at him with half lidded eyes. He watched as those fingers were taken out of his mouth, a small string of saliva sticking to them for a second. And he watched as those fingers trailed down his lean body. His own breath had become heavy at the sight.

Tino spread his legs, scooting back on the desk and planting both feet on the surface so that he could lift his hips. His chest rose and fell from his heavy breath, and bracing himself with curled toes and closed eyes, he pushed one finger deep inside of himself, releasing a tight groan.

The sight went instantly to Berwald's cock, and he groaned. He actually just... his finger was... he was...! The Swede couldn't think clearly, his eyes riveted on the sight of that single digit burying itself inside Tino's ass. His hand went to his groin, unzipping his fly to let out some of the pressure.

Hearing the noise made a brief smile lift on Tino's lips, and really, if it was that good, wouldn't more be better? A breathy noise quivered in his throat as he wriggled his finger around, slowly pumping it in and out of the tight ring of muscle, reaching as deep as it could possibly go before pulling back out. His cock wept against his stomach, pearlescent liquid pooling in his belly button and casually dripping down his sides.

Remembering his role of telling him what to do, Berwald first found a chair so he wouldn't fall over, and then looked Tino in the eye. "'Nother." After all, he had been sucking on three of his fingers, so it stood to reason that he would... use all of them... God he hoped it was true. Could three fingers even fit? It seemed so small and tight.

"Mmmn." Tino toes curled and uncurled, flexing as he wedged a second digit inside. A slight sting made him wince, but other than that, he gave no sign of a disturbance and slowly began to scissor his fingers, stretching and loosening the pink puckered hole. "Ah, Berwald!" he gasped, pushing his fingers deep inside.

He couldn't take it anymore. Berwald reached down to his aching cock and brought it out of his pants, stroking lazily up the sides. Tino's hole was twitching, taking in the fingers greedily. He kept glancing up to see his face, contorted in pleasure, so obviously it felt good for him as well.

Tino's pink tongue darted out, moistening his lips as he squeezed another finger in, gasping at the tightness. It was perhaps in that moment that it stopped being a show, and started becoming a quest for his own pleasure. He slid them in and out, reaching for the spot he knew was there, that had to be close, and grunted. The position was too awkward. Regretfully he pulled his fingers out and sat up, turning himself over and planting his feet on the floor, spreading them wide. Tino pushed his hips back so that his rear was positioned high, and with one elbow propping him up on the desk, he reached back once more, plunging his fingers deep inside.

Surprised by the change in position, Berwald gave a small moan. It gave him a much better view, except that he could no longer see Tino's face. Obviously, his fingers were as far as they could go in, but he could still tell that he was trying to make them go in even father, straining his arm to push them in. This was most definitely the best show he had ever seen, his mind going to mush.

But even though he had switched positions, so sure it would work, he just couldn't... quite... reach, his fingertips only ghosting over what he knew to be his undoing. Desperately, Tino thrust his fingers in, moaning the Swede's name.

Berwald took his hand off his shaft, knowing that if he continued touching himself he would come much too soon. He heard frustrated gasps from Tino, so he stood up and went to him. "What d' y' want?" He was done with being the one to give orders, he would much rather cater to the needs of his wife.

Tino whimpered, his eyes glassy and dark. He could see perfectly well over his shoulder the engorged, flushed manhood reaching for him so beautifully. "Be," he pleaded, slowly removing his fingers, opening himself completely. "I want you, Be. Please..."

Eyes going wide, the Swede realized that he was asking for him to have sex with him. But, he had never had sex before! What if he messed up somehow? Uncertain of himself, he stood there awkwardly for a second. "I... don't know wh't to do."

Lifting himself up on both elbows, Tino gave a flustered, reassuring smile. He should have known this would be Berwald's first time. "Don't worry," he said gently, spreading his legs a little farther and propping his bottom higher in the air. "Come here. There you go. Come closer, Be, I won't bite." Twisting back a little awkwardly he molded his fingers around Berwald's cock, squeezing. "You know what to do with this, don't you? Put it where I need it most."

"Will 't fit?" He had seen a few pictures on the Internet, but it just seemed like it would be so tight. Maybe if he had a smaller manhood... But surely he couldn't fit it all in such a small hole.

Tino laughed a little desperately, pushing himself up. "Sit," he said, gently but insistently pushing Berwald into a chair. He climbed over the bewildered Swede's thighs, straddling them, his hands finding purchase on Berwald's shoulders. "Watch," he instructed. "I'll show you."

Lifting himself up, he slowly began to sink down on the fat cock, a strangled gasp flying from his parted lips.

Worrying that he had hurt him, Berwald's hands flew to Tino's hips. But, seeing that instead of pain, it was pleasure showing on his face, he used his hands to help Tino slowly move up and down. He was right, it was incredibly tight, but he still fit. Moaning slightly, he pulled the Finn closer so he could nibble on his ear.

It was a sensory overload for Tino. He gave a silent cry, working his hips with Berwald, trying to relax and take him deeper. He shuddered and moaned into the Swede's shoulder, shifting his pelvis this way and that until finally, finally the head of Berwald's cock found what he had been searching for. "Oh! _Oh_!"

Berwald couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside of him like this. He subtly thrust his hips up, hitting that spot that Tino seemed to like even harder. One of his hands dropped to his groin, brushing against the other's cock, which dripped shamelessly. "Kiss me," he whispered, trying once again to give an order. It seemed to work, because the Finn moaned and fell forward so their lips could press together.

Once he was past the initial ache and jolts of pain that Berwald's girth had wrung through him, Tino didn't think that anything they had done thus far had ever felt so good. His kiss lacked any real finesse, meant only to fulfill his order and his insatiable hunger for Berwald. Tino had to bite his lip to keep from crying out, his fingers tangling themselves in the other's short hair, pulling lightly.

His fingers curled into the soft flesh of Tino's ass, making red marks while Berwald helped him move up and down. The friction was heating them up even more, so the most delicious burn stirred in their neither regions. It felt so good, better than anything he had experienced so far. So this was sex, this is what he had heard so much about. But the stories and videos just didn't compare to what he was feeling.

The heated tension that had been pooling in his stomach as shifting now, building, and Tino could feel in every nerve of his body that he was close, so, so close. "Be," he panted, lips moving against the Swede's neck, "Ah! Be, I'm gonna...!"

Feeling the walls around his shaft tighten, Berwald quickened his hand. They were both moaning as Tino climaxed, his seed spilling onto the large hand. Seconds later, he fell victim to his own orgasm, thrusting a few more times till it was all gone.

Tino fell against Berwald, boneless, his breath coming out in short bursts. Tino's hands slipped down Berwald's chest and hung loosely past the taller boy's hips. The Finn made a tiny noise of protest when Berwald tried to move. "Too soon," he complained quietly, an exhausted smile curling on his lips.

Nodding, the Swede wrapped his arms around Tino to hold him up. He was still breathing heavily, never having gone through something like that before. He was painfully aware that he was still inside him, trying to move more subtly so that it would fall out, which it did soon. "Oh!" Tino squeaked when it did, shivering. He laughed, a short, breathy noise and closed his eyes, dark lashes brushing against Berwald's throat. "Wow, Be. I don't think I'll be able to walk for the rest of the day," he said, only half joking.

"S'rry," he muttered against Tino's hair. He wasn't actually that sorry. School was over, and he could carry him wherever he wanted to go for the day's remainder. Well, if the Finn let him. Berwald lifted him up a bit more so he was sitting more comfortably on his lap.

Feeling sated and content, Tino fell into a drowsy, half-awake state. After a while, he was vaguely aware of Berwald moving as the midwinter sun began to find its way down to the horizon in the early afternoon, its gentle orange glow soaking Berwald's hair as he slowly cleaned and dressed the Finn. He couldn't have imagined Berwald hefting him up onto his back, either, because how else could he have gotten home by the time he was finally fully awake?

His silly mother insisted that Berwald stay for dinner, and, bless his heart, after discovering how proficient Tino's "close friend" was at creating culinary masterpieces out of traditional Finnish dishes, his father could do nothing but back her up. Tino didn't mind so much anymore that Berwald took it upon himself to do everything, simply inserting himself in the Swede's way and contributing alongside him, setting the table, minding the boiling pots, taking sides in some nonsensical argument that would be just odd to live without.

With Tino giving him a nod, accompanied with a smile, Berwald was cornered from all sides, and despite the chatterbug trait Tino shared with his mother and the long-winded, ranting tendencies of the boy's father, engaging him in one conversation or another at every turn, how could he possibly have refused?


	6. Extra: Sauna

A little oneshot extra chappy-chap written at my request. One smut scene isn't enough, after all. ;D

* * *

Tino unlocked the door to the private sauna quietly, tiptoeing in as though his parents could hear him from inside the house thirty yards away. "Come on," he murmured, gesturing for his towering companion to follow him into the shack. Tino switched on the lowlights and scampered off to light the heat under the rocks, anticipation tingling through him. "Lock the door," he said over his shoulder to his taller classmate.

The Swede did as asked, just a little apprehensive. He had heard a lot about Finnish saunas, and he was worried that it would be too hot for him. But Tino had wanted to do this, so now he was standing in the small hut, a towel around his waist.

Once the rocks were heated and little waves of the warmth drifted upward, Tino poured water from a bucket onto the stones, stepping back a little as clouds of steam burst. He peeled off his shirt, pants and undergarments, hopping onto the bench near Berwald. "Come sit," he beckoned cheerfully.

The bench was already getting wet from the steam, Berwald noted as he sat down. Tino scooted closer so they were touching, and the taller looked down and realized that his boyfriend was now completely naked. The Finn's face, flushed from the steam, focused on Berwald's form as he bent his long, lanky body to sit beside him on the bench. He glanced down at the Swede's towel and grinned in a fashion that alluded to some kind of private joke.

"Feeling a little abashed?"

Blushing completely because of the heat, Berwald looked down to the floor. "No," he said simply. It wasn't like he didn't like Tino to see him naked, but for some reason this just seemed so much less private than usual. Besides their first time in the school, they had mainly stayed to their bedrooms when they were planning to be... without clothes.

"Then you should take it off," he responded cheerfully, moving a little closer and unabashedly laying his fingertips over Berwald's.

Still not able to go against his 'wife', as he had grown to affectionately call Tino, Berwald undid the knot he had made in the towel and let it fall off. And if his hand happened to fall into his lap, then he couldn't be blamed really, could he? Tino's knee rubbed against his partner's and he smiled, his eyelids drooping slightly as the lavender orbs within trailed over Berwald's lips. A flash of pink darted across his lips, wetting them unconsciously. He leaned up, a hair's breadth away from Berwald's lips and then...

"Did you know that traditionally, we Finns beat each other's backs with dried branches?"

"Tha's stupid." That's not why Tino brought him in here, was it? Was it all a trap just so he could beat him up with a branch? Or maybe he wanted to try it because he thought their sex life was too boring. Berwald really hoped that wasn't the case.

The Finn laughed out loud, kissing the corner of Berwald's lips. "Maybe it is, but it's good for the circulation."

Berwald kissed him back, lightly. "Still stup'd." It was getting difficult to breath, the warm air heavy in his lungs. But he was determined to prove that he could stand the hot sauna, if his 'wife' could. Tino made a happy little noise and reached up to cup Berwald's cheek, tilting his head just slightly to the left to press an open-mouthed kiss to the gentle giant's lips. "Healthy, though."

"Y' don't want tha' though, right?" Because there was absolutely no way that he was going to hit Tino with a branch. It didn't matter if it was good for circulation, or healthy for him, he just couldn't do it.

"Oh, not today, since you don't seem so keen on the idea." His free hand trailed along Berwald's thigh. "But in the future definitely, okay?"

Hoping to get away from that topic, Berwald just leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend deeply. The hand on his thigh was distracting, but he didn't mind at all. Instead he put his own hand over it, not moving it up any further, but pressing it into his leg slightly.

Tino squeezed the thick, firm muscles there and just to make himself more comfortable, he stood up just partially and swung his leg over to straddle the sturdy thigh, his fingers wriggling about to fit themselves between Berwald's. "Trying to shut me up, are you?" he scolded good-naturedly, stroking the pale, soft hair at the back of Berwald's neck. He stared up through his lashes into his lover's eyes in a sultry fashion. "It's going to take more than _that_ to quiet me."

That was definitely meant to be a challenge, which Berwald took gladly. He pulled Tino to him, kissing him deeply, one hand going to the back of his neck, the other going to just above his butt. He kneaded the skin there, and went lower to grab a handful of one cheek.

Squealing into Berwald's mouth a matter that probably wasn't as manly as he would have liked, Tino complied to the gentle demands and wriggled himself closer until his pelvis was nestled flush against Berwald's hip. "You really don't like me talking, do you?" he sighed, his breath fanning against the Swede's cheek.

"I l'ke this bett'r." Berwald went for his lover's weak spot: his nipples. It was always so fun playing with them, with how much Tino would react when he would pluck and roll them. It made the petite Finn mewl, a little noise keening deep in his throat. He craned his neck forward, kissing the other deeply, thoroughly, sighing happily.

The steamy air made it difficult to breathe through his nose, so Berwald had to pull back from the kiss when his lungs started to hurt. He felt both their erections pressing up against each other, and when Tino moved even slightly, it created a delicious friction.

Tino made to wrap his lithe legs about Berwald's hips and giggled, a little light-headed from all the steam, and in the process he nearly fell over, laughing and clinging to Berwald. "Ah, here, this bench is too narrow, let's..." And slowly, he slid over and off Berwald's leg and onto the bench, pulling Berwald along until he was laying down with his back to the warm, wet wood while his lover's body held itself above him.

Berwald shuffled down so that he was right above Tino's cock, and he leaned down to take it into his mouth. He loved tasting him like this, he was sure only Tino had this taste. At the same time, the tall Swede got his hands under his ass, lifting him up to his mouth.

Even Tino's neck arched as Berwald took him in all the way, pressing the heel of his hand firmly to his mouth to suppress the loud, scandalous noises threatening to explode from his aching chest. His toes curled and he reached with another hand, threading his fingers deeply in the Swede's short, pale locks.

With his tongue, Berwald massaged the underside of his boyfriend's shaft, his fingers inching closer to Tino's hole. But too late he realized that they didn't really have any lube here, so he brought his hand out and put it in front of the Finn's face, silently willing him to understand.

Shuddering lightly, he leaned up, taking three long fingers into his mouth, laving them in a fashion to mirror the wonderful things Berwald was doing to his cock. He suckled lightly, feeling the lustful rumble from Berwald's chest all the way to the tips of his toes.

As soon as his fingers were covered in saliva, Berwald brought them back to Tino's hole. The first few times they had had sex, he had made sure to ask if he wanted it, but the last time the Finn had gotten a little annoyed and told him to stop asking and just _do it_. After that, he made sure to not ask, because if Tino was hard and naked and panting, then he probably wanted it no matter what.

Tino spread his thighs, tensing and relaxing in anticipation. He glanced down his body and something registered, something that felt distinctly like pity. Berwald was crouched so awkwardly half on, half off the bench, but even so he was paying such diligent care of Tino, preparing him so gently and thoroughly, and before he could even feel the second finger inside of him, the Finn reached down and put a hand over Berwald's to catch his attention. "That can't be comfortable. Here, let's move."

To move, Berwald had to take his fingers out for a moment. "Where d'you want?" He asked, not sure where this was going. Tino stood up and faced him, and they kissed for a minute.

Tino reached down when the kiss deepened and took a firm hold of Berwald's thick, heavy cock. It never ceased to amaze him just how large it was, though he shouldn't have been surprised; it was most definitely in proportion to the rest of his body. It throbbed and pulsed in his grip and he stroked it lovingly for a long, curious moment before falling to his knees and turning. "Come behind me," he said, a small, flushed smile on his face.

"'Kay." Berwald knelt down behind his lover and continued stretching him from where he left off. The hole got bigger as he spread his fingers, curling them to hit the cluster of nerves that Tino loved so much. It was amazing; before they went out, he didn't even know that the prostate felt so good, but now he not only knew that, but exactly where to find it in Tino's body. His fantasies had changed somewhat with the knowledge, now including a small vibrator that he could press inside Tino right against that spot.

Leaning on his elbows against the damp wooden bench, Tino subtly raised his hips to meet Berwald's hand, arching and groaning when Berwald visited that same delightful gland over and over. "B-Be, if you keep, _mmmm_... if you keep that up, I'm gonna come!"

Figuring that he was stretched enough, Berwald took his fingers out and spread the remaining saliva over his shaft. He bent over Tino's body, going flush against his back. "Ready?"

Tino nodded, glancing over his shoulder at Berwald. "Go on," he insisted, tensing and sighing in pleasure as he felt the hard shaft slide through, fitting inside of him with a snug perfection.

He waited just long enough for Tino to adjust before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in. Berwald's hands went to his lover's cock, fingers light on the hot skin. He didn't want him to come too quickly, after all.

The Finn didn't seem to be of the same opinion, pressing forward, bucking his hips into Berwald's hand for more friction. "Mm, Berwald, please," he whimpered when the Swede didn't give in. For once, Berwald didn't listen to him. It had always been in his fantasies for Tino to be begging him, and now he was, so he kept his grip light and teasing. He felt bad for not doing what his lover wanted, but the sounds he was making were worth it.

It made Tino ache and whimper, pushing back to nestle his rear against Berwald's hips. "No fair," he whined, reaching down with one hand to cover Berwald's.

The Swede could taste the sweat dripping off them from the steam, their bodies sliding against each other. He thrust harder, pushing Tino forward into his hand. With the hand over Berwald's, the pressure was increased slightly, but he didn't mind so much.

"Ah!" Tino cried, and over and over the noise resounded in the small, steamy shack. "Nng, Berwald, harder," he panted, jolting when a calloused thumb swiped over the weeping head of his cock.

But suddenly Berwald stopped completely, deep inside Tino, breathing hard against his back. "Say... say y're m'wife," he panted, because even if he had been saying it a little lately, he had never heard his lover say it, and he wanted to hear it, even if it was only just once.

Tino's breath came hard and fast and he looked over his shoulder, warming further at the intensity of Berwald's stare, the vulnerability and hope hidden so well behind it. "Y-your what?" he squeaked, his fine brows knitting together.

"M'wife. Please." He moved slightly so that he was close enough to lick Tino's ear, but still didn't move his hips even though it was killing him.

The Finn's heart clenched and he blushed furiously, shuddering at the sensations Berwald's tongue sent through his body. "B-but I'm a man!" he protested weakly, tightening around Berwald's cock. "C-can't I be your h-husband instead?"

That was obviously not what Berwald wanted, because he kept still. "H'sbands don't wear apr'ns." He said simply. He had only seen Tino in an apron once, but it was an image he would keep with him forever.

Tino wanted to whine and argue, he wanted to prove his masculinity, and he wanted... well, it's a little difficult to be taken seriously when one is taking it up the ass and moaning like some kind of slut at every tiny movement. Burying his face in his arms, Tino willed the cherry red in his cheeks to fade.

"... your wife," he mumbled abashedly.

After that, Berwald couldn't hold back any longer. He thrust into Tino with everything he had, feeling his ball sack hit that pert ass. The sounds his 'wife' was making weren't helping with him with trying to be gentle, and he was well aware that he was pushing Tino into the bench every time he went forward.

Due to the rather obscene noises the Finn made when Berwald picked up the pace, it was needless to say that he rather enjoyed the lack of inhibitions. The Swede's heavy cock rubbed against the sensitive gland inside of him in time with his thrusts, rendering Tino a moaning figure of pleasure. Berwald's name was a wild chant on Tino's lips as he felt himself near completion.

Berwald felt his boyfriend tighten around him, so he knew to expect the quick spurt on his hand and Tino almost falling down in exhaustion. He held him up, and kept thrusting to his own climax, which hit him hard. Strong shivers jolted through Tino's spine long after his orgasm, and he gave a little _"ooh!"_ when Berwald pulled out. Two little puddles formed on the floor just centimeters apart and he fell limp in Berwald's arms. When the Swede fell back, he moved himself about to sit cradled in Berwald's lap, his cheek against the sweat-and-steam slick shoulder to catch his breath.

" 'm not gonna hit y' with a branch," Berwald said between breaths of hot steam. He knew that if he didn't say it now when he had the courage in post-coital bliss, he probably never would.

Tino's breathless laughter filled the tiny hut and he reached up, touching Berwald's cheek. "You say that now, but if you want me to use the 'w' word, you're going to haven to acquiesce to my terms."

Growling deep in his chest, Berwald grabbed Tino and lifted him up, laying him down on the bench. "Wanna bet?"


End file.
